


would i have to pass you by?

by eggharbor



Series: got the same issues to work through [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Gangs, Asexual Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper Needs a Hug, Betty Cooper-centric, Bisexual Betty Cooper, Bisexual Cheryl Blossom, Bisexual Toni Topaz, Bisexual Veronica Lodge, Depressed Betty, Eating Disorders, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Multi, Slow Burn, also betty and veronica are bi i'm sorry i don't make the rules, also hal cooper is d e a d because i hate him, also southside high doesn't exist, based on personal experience, basically betty learns to appreciate her friends because they're great, basically instead of jug in the three musketeers it was vee, betty is not okay, canon is pretty much irrelevant in this story just to let you know, except archie and veronica they're kind of toxic here, i'm so sorry i promise it is worth the read, jason is dead sorry, jug causes p r o b l e m s, maybe idk it's my first story and i'm worried, mean Veronica, mean archie, ms. grundy does not exist because she's terrible, reggie is a good pure soul in this story, so is toni, the slowest burn, this author doesn't know how to tag, vee didn't move from ny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-07-05 13:35:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 49,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15864672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggharbor/pseuds/eggharbor
Summary: Betty Cooper, post-triangle, is sinking, drowning, dying in perfection. She's way past point of no return, and if someone doesn't see her soon, there may be nothing left to save.And then... Jughead Jones, delinquent and Betty's antagonizer, does a complete one hundred and eighty degree spin. And Betty learns she doesn't know how to live with or without him.(In which Betty is breaking and she just knows that Jughead hates her- except he doesn't.)





	1. nights of loveless love

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Also, each chapter title is a song name, which will show the progression of the story when you put them in a playlist. The title song is "Black Flies" by Ben Howard, and this chapter is "Love" by Daughter.

The end for them was a three part installment of heartache and heresy, and to be honest, Betty was done feeling empty about it. She draws her arm back and snaps her wrist, watching another flat rock bounce across the surface of the river three times before it falls into the water with a loud _kerplunk._

 

“So what do you feel?” Polly had asked her that night after their mother had gone to bed, over leftover lasagna and the blaring background noise of the television in the other room.

 

The first part was Archie’s fault, and Betty is willing to accept that now. She had always regarded him with such reverence, and to sit back and accept the fact that _Archie, her next-door neighbor, the handsome jock with the heart of gold, Archie, her Archie,_ had been wrong, well… that was sure something. She remembers the chill of the day he’d come clean, because she’d decided not to wear her coat, like a moron, even though she knew she got cold easily and she knew she’d have to huddle closer to Archie even though _he’s taken, he’s with Valerie, Betty, get a grip, girl…_

 

“I’m cheating on Val,” he’d said when they were a couple blocks away from school, and as close as she was to him, tucked into his side, the fast turn she made to stare upat him in shock caused her ponytail to smack him in the face. “Ow.”

 

“You what?” _Careful, Betty_ , her mind had sung, _you almost sounded hurt there. But you don’t get to feel hurt, do you?_

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

“I’m cheating on Val… with Ron,” he admitted, nodding once like he hadn’t quite realized it before, like this was the first time he himself was consciously aware that he was breaking the heart of not one, but two girls. He still wasn’t aware of the fact that he was breaking Betty’s, too.

 

“You what?” She asked, louder this time, more in disbelief. _Archie, the golden boy, Archie, her best friend, Archie, her hero, the boy on the pedestal, just out of reach, Archie-_

 

“Ron knows. Val doesn’t.”

 

Her air supply is gone. She’s sinking, drowning, gasping, choking, _dying_ … “How long?”

 

“Two months.”

 

The first volume had been on Archie. She could see that now. Her eyes had been opened to the truth.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

Hurt, maybe. Betrayed would apply to this scenario. Disbelief would work, too. Like the rug was pulled from beneath her, like her world is ending, like she doesn’t even know who Archie is anymore. But that’s not quite it. At least, not now.

 

“I feel okay.” And neither is her response.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

She draws herself up again, releasing another stone. Four skips, this time.

 

She had met Archie in preschool, when he’d punched Jughead Jones over a copy of _Horton Hears a Who_ and her four-year-old self had made it her duty to ensure he didn’t get in too much trouble, because honestly, Jughead could be a bit of a jerk sometimes. He was always pulling Betty’s pigtails and making fun of her animal sweaters and she really, really didn’t like him. So if helping the boy who punched him meant that Jughead got into trouble? Well, Betty didn’t see the problem with that.

 

So Betty cried to distract the teachers and both boys got off with just a warning and Betty got the biggest smile and a shy hand out to shake from the redheaded boy, “Hi, my name is Archie.”

 

And she beamed right back, “My name is Betty and we’re best friends now.”

 

She’d been a little demanding, right from the start. She’d always been that way, because _Cooper girls are war-torn, never knowing the comforts of peace. Cooper blood runs through Betty’s veins, hot and sticky, staining the hearts of those she comes in contact with. Beware the Cooper girls, born to raise chaos and level cities, always wanting more than they can have._

 

Betty had pushed Archie. She’d pushed him to care more, to study more, to pass second grade, to befriend Veronica and include her in their games, to pay more attention to her, to be a better person that a cheater, to break up with Valerie, to love her less, to love Veronica more, to love Veronica less, to love her more, and then she’d pushed him so far away that he would never be able to find his way back.

 

Betty cared. She always cared too much, and Archie never cared enough, and in the end, neither one of them were right.

 

She’s not careful when she throws this time. The rock doesn’t skip at all. It splashes, and then it’s gone.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

_I have been through enough pain I have been through enough pain I have been through enough pain IhavebeenthroughenoughpainIhavebeenthroughenoughpainIhavebeenthroughenoughpain-_

There’s not enough water in her system to cry, so she curls up on the riverbank and closes her eyes. In the distance, she hears the screech of a train. The pale moonlight shines over her. The river rushes on.

 

_So what do you feel, Betty?_

 

Nothing. She feels nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty hadn’t always been pastel pink, flower petals and bubblegum, strawberry milkshakes and softly glowing smiles. Betty had been blue, a steady blue, a reliable blue, a strong girl with a determined heart and scuffed knees and calloused hands and a degree of toughness unparalleled to anyone else in her family.

 

But Veronica was purple, deep and seductive and _beautiful_ , and by God, boring blue Betty could not compete with a goddess like that. So Betty became the good girl, the counterpart, the angelic naivety opposite to Veronica’s devilish charm.

 

(Deep down, it was simpler than that. Veronica was yellow sunshine and Archie was red passion and Betty was still some shade of blue sadness. Deep down, it always broke down to three points on a triangle, to the primary colors, to the three installments of a trilogy of tired tropes. Deep down, it was always simpler.)

 

On the walk home, she looks at the shadows and decides that if she had been blue before, and pink during, that now she is simply gray. There is no color left inside, just a hollow heart and memories that leave her with a gentle ache when she replays them in her mind.

 

She passes Pop’s, and her stomach growls. What she wouldn’t give for a basket of fries, or a vanilla milkshake, or anything, really. The lasagna was hours ago, and she’s starving.

 

But she sees a familiar station wagon in the parking lot, and she turns on her heel and walks away.

 

Betty hadn’t always been pink, but she hadn’t always been gray, either. The burning reminder is more than she can bear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part two was all Veronica.

 

Veronica, and her beautiful composure, Veronica, and her poised perfection, Veronica, and her honeyed words, and her wonderful, incredible kindness, and her… _her distracting, disarming personality_ , making Archie all tongue-tied and tangled up in _her_ instead of his girlfriend.

 

Okay, that’s technically not on her. Betty’s only mad because Archie had never been the only one falling over himself for her. It was difficult _not_ to fall over Veronica. It took training she had never received, training for a dark mysterious beauty that had the general population of Riverdale ensnared with just a sideways glance.

 

After Valerie, Archie and Veronica fell together like nothing had ever been standing between them in the first place. They were perfect for each other.

 

Except Archie was so dopey and in love that he never really figured out how one was supposed to plan a quality date, and if he wanted to keep Veronica, he needed the “wow” factor, and Betty just really wanted to keep the peace between the three of them, so she took on the responsibility of making sure that Veronica and Archie remained a couple no matter what. So she did what she could to dig around and figure out how to plan dates sure to impress Veronica. She made sure Arch always had the cutest dance proposals that Ron could boast about on social media. She left chocolates in Ron’s locker and had candy-grams delivered to her when they were being sold at school. She picked out gifts for her birthday and Christmas, and let her think they were from Archie. Betty had become Veronica’s dream boyfriend.

 

And when all was said and done, it really was just a hop, skip, and a jump to falling madly in love with the other girl.

 

Veronica Lodge was the raven-haired princess of Riverdale, and everyone at their elementary school had known it. They ooh-ed and ah-ed over her, adored her to pieces and treated her like royalty. Little Betty had no interest in being an admirer, not when she had little Archie’s attention all to herself. And it wasn’t as if Archie was her only friend. She had her sister Polly, and Kevin and Ethel, and on occasion, her cousins Jason and Cheryl, though they were bratty a majority of the time. Archie was just her _best_ friend, a designation Betty didn’t want to give to just anyone. And so as much as Betty cared about everything, she did not care about Veronica.

 

And then Veronica didn’t come to class one day. Or the next day. Or the next. In fact, little Veronica was out of school for an entire week before she returned.

 

Polly is asleep on the couch when Betty returns. The clock on the oven reads 2:43. She tiptoes up the stairs and hopes to God her mother isn’t a restless sleeper tonight. When she’s safely in her room, she slips off her converse, crawls under the covers, and stares up at the ceiling. Archie’s curtains are closed. They’ve been closed all summer.

 

When Veronica finally had returned to school, she was no longer regaled with love and affection from their peers. She was ostracized, avoided in the hallways and whispered about once her back was turned. They were young, but they sure as hell understood that when someone’s father was arrested, it usually wasn’t because they were a saint.

 

Betty had stumbled upon her by accident, in the cafeteria bathroom. She had nearly slipped on a loose pearl, like the ones typically slung around the Lodge girl’s neck. The floor was littered with them. Someone was crying in one of the stalls. Betty was smart, but it wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out what occurred. “Veronica?”

 

“What do you _want_?” She snarled, and now Betty knows it was because Lodges weren’t supposed to show weakness. Lodges were supposed to be icy cold and calculated, carefully constructed caricatures of people. Lodges were supposed to be idolized, not befriended.

 

But Veronica Lodge needed a friend now more than ever. A real friend, not just a follower. And Betty was demanding, and Betty was determined, and most of all, Betty _cared_. And so Betty said, “Do you want to split a snickerdoodle?”

 

Now, Alice Cooper made the most fantastic snickerdoodles in all of Riverdale. The PTA bake sale was never complete without at least six dozen, which sold within the first ten minutes every year without fail. Betty was the envy of all because she had immediate access to the source of these precious cookies, and Betty did not share them with just anyone, no matter how much you begged or pleaded. Betty offering to split one of her mother’s famed treats was huge.

 

From behind the door, Veronica sniffled. “Are you serious?”

 

Betty shrugs. “I mean, if you don’t want to…”

 

The stall door swings open, and suddenly Betty has an armful of one Veronica Lodge. “Thank you.”

 

Betty grins. “C’mon, let’s go get that cookie before Archie steals it.”

 

Archie had been hesitant, at first. But Betty had convinced him. In the end, Betty always convinced him.

 

And in the end, she could never convince Veronica. She could never convince her to _hear me out, Ron, I just need space, it doesn’t mean I’m gone for good, just for a little while…_ She could never convince her of _it’s not fair to ask me to wait for you to love me._ She could never convince her that _maybe we need a break from each other._ She could never convince her of _I did love you once, Veronica._

 

Archie’s curtains remain drawn. He’s probably at Veronica’s, anyway. Betty waits for morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She started going for pre-dawn runs after she burned the last bridge between her and her two best friends. It was easier, so much easier, to think clearly after a run. She scurries down the steps and inches over to her next door neighbor’s driveway, checking to make sure that…

 

There it is. Archie’s never really given much thought to the effort his dad puts into their yard, and every morning, he manages to run through the one patch of mud and track debris down the street. This morning, his footprints go to the left, so Betty goes to the right.

 

_See Betty run._

 

One was Archie, two was Veronica, so it’s only fair that three was Betty.

 

Falling in love with Archie had been only natural. Falling in love with Veronica had been unavoidable. Watching the two of them break up had not been a part of the plan. Watching the two of them break up twice in the same twenty-four-hour span of time had _definitely_ not been a part of the plan.

 

When Archie had told Betty that he no longer had feelings for Veronica, her heart felt guilty for feeling relieved. Betty was secretly jumping for joy when she advised him to break up with Veronica. And then Archie said, “I can’t do this to her again.”

 

And Betty paused. “Again?”

 

Archie had attempted to break things off with Veronica the night before. Over text. And then had chickened out when she started getting upset. And told her he had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

 

“Archie,” she had sighed, “ _you_ are the terrible mistake.”

 

And so in the spring of her freshman year of high school, Betty got to drag Archie to the student lounge, and Betty got to shove the two people she loved most together just to watch them both break down in tears at the realization that they were breaking up, and that things between the three of them would never be the same. And Betty got to swallow the lump in her throat for the next three months as she slowly rebuilt her friends’ hearts until Archie and Veronica could once again reside in the same plane of existence. And Betty got to make the rule. For the rest of their lives, Veronica was not allowed to date Archie. Archie was not allowed to date Betty. And for the love of all things holy, Betty was not allowed to date Veronica. And then there was calm.

 

_Wrong._

 

Then there was calm before the storm. Before Hurricane Betty swept through and tore up all the trees and tore down all the houses in Riverdale, and before she destroyed any chance of reconciliation between the three of them.

 

_See Betty burn._

 

She’s hungry, when she returns, ravenously hungry. Her feet hit the pavement until she tumbles to the ground in front of her house, dark spots dancing around her field of vision. She picks herself up, and sighs when she sees the great big scrape on her arm. She passes by the kitchen and heads straight for the stairs so she can clean herself up before her mother sees the wound and has the chance to nag her because _really Elizabeth, you need to start being more careful._

 

Veronica and Archie lasted less than a year apart. And the news of their merry reunion had not reached Betty’s ears until almost a month later, when she was accidentally let in on the secret by dear sweet Kevin.

 

She hisses when she cleans out the dirt, and bites her lip when she applies peroxide. She goes through the motions. She’s very familiar with how to clean out a cut. Her hands always heal quite nicely.

 

When Betty had confronted them, she had been livid. Furious at the lack of trust, the deception, the fact that _neither of them had chosen her_ … It was selfish, feeling that way, but she couldn’t help it. She had kept them together the first time around, and now they were picking each other over her. The fight had spiraled out of control fast. And then…

 

_See Betty break._

 

She showers. She gets dressed. She dries her hair and puts it in a ponytail. She does her makeup. She slips on a cardigan over the bandage to hide it from her mother. Junior year starts today, and she is going to do what good girls do best.

 

_See Betty fake it till she fucking makes it._

 

Betty is going to stand up straight. Betty is going to smile. Under no circumstances is Betty going to cry.

 

On her way out the door, she forgets to grab breakfast. And then... "Betty?" 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. make me feel any less alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty straightens. Betty smiles. And Betty keeps going. Kevin and Ethel help. Reggie helps. Cheryl helps. Toni helps.
> 
> Archie and Veronica do not help.
> 
> And Jughead Jones definitely does not help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "A Lack of Color" by Death Cab for Cutie.

For one terrible, horrible, too-long second, Betty thinks it’s Archie who’s said her name.

 

“Hey, Betty? Are you okay?” She snaps back to find Kevin staring at her strangely, regarding her with poorly concealed concern.

 

“Fine, Kev,” she smiles, because that’s the right move, because history has proved it’s the right move. It feels wrong on her lips. She makes it bigger.

 

They elect to take the “scenic route”— an excuse to avoid Archie, one that Kevin doesn’t comment on. And really, she’s so lucky to have Kevin. He doesn’t live near her— Sheriff Keller dropped him off on his way to the station just so she has someone to walk with. But a little part of her wonders if this is all she’s left with in the aftermath.

 

_Bits and pieces. She’s left with bits and pieces._

 

And just as they start down the street— walking left instead of right— Veronica’s car peals down past them, screeching to a halt just outside Archie’s house.

 

“Let’s go, B,” Kev tugs her hand, but she’s still staring at the limousine. Vaguely, she recalls an article on the science of rubbernecking. How people are morbidly curious and drawn to disaster, and now she herself is a victim of this phenomena, and _dear God_ this is a slow-motion car wreck waiting to happen-

 

Archie exits his house just as Veronica exits the limo, and they meet in the middle for a sickening kiss.

 

“Let’s _go_ , B,” he says with a little more urgency this time. She turns her head. The look on Kevin’s face tells her they’ve spotted her. She straightens. She smiles. And she walks forward. Not once does she turn and look back. Kevin falls into step beside her. She doesn’t hear the car leave until they’ve turned the corner.

 

_Bits and pieces. They’re left with bits and pieces._

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s easy for Betty to pretend not to know that not one of them is a monster. It’s easier to imagine Archie with fangs, Veronica with claws, herself with horns. It’s easier to pretend to see them in every dark corner and shadowed hall than to face the reality that sometimes people just don’t work out.

 

_“You are a monster, Elizabeth Cooper. You’re worse than my father.”_

 

She slams her locker a little harshly, causing Ethel to jump beside her. Betty shoots her an apologetic glance.

 

“Are you sitting with me and Kev at lunch?” Ethel says, pretending she’s not slightly breathless, not recovering from the shock.

 

Betty wants to say yes. Betty _should_ say yes. But Ethel and Kevin are regulars at Archie and Veronica’s table, and it’s not fair for her to make them pick a side. No one in their group has brought it up, but everyone knows. Even Cheryl had switched the positions for the Vixens during practice the week before school had started so that she and Veronica interacted as little as possible. It’s the art of silent war, a cold confusion that she has yet to face because she clings to half-summer days when the three of them vowed forever. Archie and Veronica have mastered it in no time at all, leaving Betty to flounder and suffer alone.

 

So Betty says, “I have work to get done. I’ll probably just stay in the journalism room.” She’ll avoid the cafeteria entirely, is what she means. She won’t impose. And she pretends not to notice the relief painted clear on Ethel’s face. Betty’s getting better at pretending.

 

Ethel says, “Dilton and I are walking to chemistry together. Are you okay getting to history alone?”

 

She wants to say, “ _The one class I have with Veronica?_ ” Instead, she says, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

Because Betty is a good girl, a Cooper girl, and Cooper girls don’t back down. Cooper girls are delicate, but they are strong. Cooper girls don’t break.

 

_See Betty break._

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

Betty is lonely. But Betty is tough. Ethel walks away, and she doesn’t cry. She straightens. She smiles. Ad she walks to history, ignoring the gnawing at her heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

For some reason, Reggie Mantle has taken to championing her protection squad, and Betty finds it’s the weirdest fucking thing. It’s the first day of school, and it’s like he’s memorized her life. He walks her to class at very specific times, like he knows when her path intersects with Archie and Veronica’s. He’s brought her granola bars, and she stows them in her locker for later. He hugs her right before lunch, and he whispers, “Andrews has been talking shit. But I got your back, Coop.” And then he’s gone.

 

Huh. Archie’s spreading rumors about her, and Reggie’s defending her. That’s a total change. One that rips at her heartstrings, one that kills her a little bit, but maybe she should learn to count her blessings.

 

Life could be worse. It could always be worse.

 

She does actually have stuff to do for the paper, so she makes her way to the empty journalism room. Or, well, it _should_ be empty. But the door is open, and well, with all of the tension in the air right now, she’s afraid of what awaits her inside.

 

She manages to avoid the horror cliche of calling out “Hello?” But Betty is curious, has always been curious, and ignores her inner mantra of _get out, get out, get out, you won’t survive this_ in favor of pushing open the door to reveal…

 

_Jughead fucking Jones._

 

He’s sitting on her desk. There are plenty of other places to sit, hell, there are actual _chairs_ he could be sitting in, but he’s specifically chosen to sit on _her desk._ She’s giving him five seconds before she screams.

 

_One breath, two breaths, three…_

 

He turns, a crooked smirk already in place. “If it isn’t the one and only Mini Cooper. How are you doing today?” He knows she hates that nickname. He knows which desk is hers— they’ve worked on staff together for two years, for Christ’s sake— and he knows that it annoys the hell out of her when he sits on it. And if fucking _Reggie Mantle_ knows about the drama she’s the center of, there is no excuse for him to be asking her that question.

 

_One breath, two breaths, three…_

 

“Are we really doing this?”

 

His face falls in disappointment. She humors him, most days, because it’s the quickest way to get him to shut up and leave her alone. But she’s in no mood today, has nobody to vent to about her frustrations with him, she’s tired and she’s moody and she’s running on _empty_ in more ways than one and so she stops holding back her dislike.

 

His question comes out of the blue. “Do you hate me?”

 

She had met Jughead Jones before she had met Veronica, before she had met Kevin, before she had met Archie. She had met Jughead in the quiet of a cemetery, throwing dirt on her not-so-dearly-departed father’s grave. She had met Jughead in a black dress in the early morning, because his father and her mother were more than friends a long time ago. And while they agreed that they didn’t want to date, not when FP had so many emotional scars from his wife’s departure and Alice had so many physical ones from Hal, that didn’t mean they didn’t support each other. Betty started seeing Jughead Jones once a week for dinner at her house. To be honest, in another life, maybe that would’ve been the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

 

Had it not been for Jughead. And his _utter_ stupidity.

 

He’d start off every Thursday night by pushing her out of the way when he came through the door. He’d always interrupt her when she talked at the table, and he stole her portion of dessert when their parents weren’t looking. In school, he’d tug on her pigtails and break her crayons and he never let her swing on the playground.

 

Things came to a head when he stole a batch of her mother’s snickerdoodles made special for Betty’s birthday. Alice had baked a batch for Betty to take in for her classmates. Unsuspecting, Betty left them in a tupperware box on the teacher’s desk, to be passed out at the end of the school day. And Jughead had gathered his friends (Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs) to help him swipe the cookies. When the kids came back in from recess, Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs all had crumbs on their chins and faces filled with guilt. Jughead, though? He didn’t look even a little bit sorry. He had the last cookie in his hand, and he made eye contact with Betty before taking a huge bite right out of it.

 

Betty froze.

 

_One breaths, two breaths, three…_

 

She burst into tears.

 

Hearing the commotion, the teacher flew into the room and picked up the young girl, frantically shushing her cries. Betty hiccuped, and three words came to mind, three words her mother and father had exchanged not too long before the funeral, three words that had carried enough fire that Betty had felt the heat when she was safely tucked up in her room.

 

“I hate you, Jughead Jones!” She screamed. “I hate you!”

 

Except Betty had been four, at the time. And little Betty didn’t really know her feelings towards Jughead. All she knew was that he was mean, he was a thief, and she was _so mad_ at him, so why shouldn’t hate apply?

 

But Betty prided herself on being the nice girl, and nice girls don’t hate people. Not even mean boys who steal birthday snickerdoodles, especially if such theft occurred over a decade ago.

 

_One breaths, two breaths, three…_

 

“No.” And it’s true. She doesn’t hate him, not really.

 

“Strong dislike, then?” He looks vulnerable. Betty decides she kind of hates it.

 

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

 

He grins again, wide and reckless, and Betty’s heart thumps painfully in her chest, because _it looks like Archie…_

 

She turns abruptly, after that, and makes a beeline for the door. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Cooper, where are you going?”

 

_One breaths, two breaths, three…_

 

“My name,” she grits out, “is Betty.”

 

“Betty,” he says, softer. Her eyes prick. Her fingernails embed themselves in her palms. “Are you okay?”

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

_Nothing nothing nothing nothingnothingnothing-_

 

“Why would you care?” He gapes at her, like he doesn’t quite believe the words came out of her mouth, and honestly, she agrees with him, so she laughs vacantly and says, “I feel okay.” _Lie._ “I think I’m going to the cafeteria to grab lunch.” _Lie._ “I’ll get my article done on time, don’t worry.” _Huh, now that was the truth._

 

He sighs. “Betty-”

 

But Betty is gone. She’ll go to the library, maybe. But she doesn’t need Jughead Jones or his pity.

 

Because Betty is a Cooper girl of bloodshed-born glory, and Cooper girls are strong. So Betty will be strong. _She will be strong._ She has to be.

 

The door shuts with some finality behind her. She can’t find it within herself to care.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cheryl is a Blossom girl. Cheryl is red passion but Betty is blue sadness and they clash like Betty and Archie back when Betty was too blind to see his flaws. Cheryl is pure power, Cheryl is strong, Cheryl blazes with untapped potential and wickedness waiting to be unleashed.

 

“Cousin Betty,” she announces to the rest of the squad at practice. From the other side of the gym, where she’s stretching with Josie and Tina and Ginger, Veronica stiffens.

 

“Cheryl,” Betty fidgets. Her cousin is _too loud_ and it’s _too much, too fast_ … And then Cheryl grabs her hand and leads her too the farthest corner away from Veronica. They stretch together. Cheryl tells the other Vixens to run laps. Cheryl keeps holding her hand.

 

“Veronica’s a monster, Betty,” Cheryl says. Betty shakes her head.

 

“She isn’t. Neither is Archie. Neither am I.”

 

_“You are a monster, Elizabeth Cooper.”_

 

Cheryl looks like she wants to say, “I never said you were.” But she thinks better of it. Because Cheryl is a Blossom girl, and she has combatted rumors of her brother’s death for years. Cheryl knows. Cheryl’s always known.

 

And Betty is done pretending. Cheryl calls the girls to circle up and start practice. Veronica glares. Betty straightens. Betty smiles. And Betty does not look at Veronica once.

 

 

 

 

 

She ends up back in the journalism after that, because Kevin and Ethel are nowhere to be found and Cheryl’s driving home and Reggie still has another half hour of football practice and the thought of walking home by herself isn’t exactly the most appealing notion to her at this exact moment. So she opens her bag and she pulls out her laptop and she works on her article because it gives her a sense of normalcy, it gives her something to hold onto, and she can’t go for a run directly after cheer practice because she hasn’t eaten today and she’s afraid she’ll pass out.

 

She’s only been working for fifteen minutes when Jughead and Toni enter.

 

“Hey Betty!” The photographer waves. Betty waves back, because she’s always liked Toni, really.

 

“Cooper,” Jughead juts his chin at her, and she feels like any progress they had made that afternoon is long gone. So she ignores him. It’s easier.

 

“You still need me to take those dance photos, Friday, B?” Toni asks, smoothly skating right over Betty’s complete disregard of her best friend’s greeting. _This_ is why she’s always liked Toni.

 

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m not going,” she responds, not even missing a beat. Jughead and Toni are quiet, so she chances a glance up. They’re looking at her oddly.

 

“You’re… not going?” Toni’s voice is unusually strained. Jughead tilts his head.

 

“Betty Cooper, Riverdale High’s girl perfect, _not_ attending a social function where she can flaunt how much better she is than us in our faces? Is this the Twilight Zone?” It’s when he says things like that she is reminded that she does not like Jughead Jones, not even a little bit.

 

_Wrong, you are so, so, so very wrong._

 

_Bits and pieces. She’s left with bits and pieces._

 

_“You are a monster, Elizabeth Cooper.”_

 

_See Betty break._

 

_One breath, two breaths, three…_

 

She doesn’t say anything as she makes her escape. “This is why she hates you, genius,” she thinks she hears Toni say. To be honest, it’s all a little blurry.

 

She lets her mom know she’s walking home. She doesn’t really come to until she’s turning her key in the front door.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this just kind of barely brushes on the effects of the drama that went down between B, V, and A. We're also starting to see Betty spiral, and... introducing Jughead! Be warned, he's kind of an ass for a little while. Also Reggie Mantle is a kind soul and I'm doing him right in this.


	3. the past has tasted bitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See Betty run, see Betty break, see Betty question why Jughead Jones suddenly seems to care about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "I'll Be Good" by Jaymes Young.

_“Haven’t you done enough?”_

 

Polly has left Riverdale for some highly ranked university, so the number of Cooper girls in the house on Elm Street is down to two. Her mother is working late, so currently the number of Cooper girls in the house on Elm Street is down to one. Next door, the number of Andrews men is down to zero.

 

_“Haven’t you done enough?”_

 

She emails the Blue and Gold staff her article for the first issue, and does all of her notes and homework meant for this weekend, and she straightens out her room until not a hair is out of place.

 

_“Haven’t you done enough?” Archie had shouted at her, his anger clear, his fists clenched. “Are you fucking sorry?”_

 

_Are you fucking sorry, Betty? Are you?_

 

_You are a monster, Elizabeth Cooper._

 

Betty puts in her headphones and hurries off on a run. She needs to clear her head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She and Veronica had gone to New York City the summer following freshman year, following V’s catastrophic breakup with their mutual best friend. Betty’s favorite part of the vacation had been their walk through Central Park, when their moms had let them romp around freely, and they’d ended up on a bench.

 

“Archie is such a good guy, B,” Veronica had said, sighing. “It kind of sucks because it makes it hard to hate him.”

 

“Then don’t hate him,” had been her response. “I don’t hate you.”

 

And Veronica had whispered, “Maybe you should.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

She feels like throwing up. She puts her hands on her knees and pants, bile crawling up her throat. And then…

 

_See Betty break._

 

The roar of a motorcycle grows louder. It stops when it’s next to her, where she’s sprawled out on the ground.

 

“B? You good?”

 

She wants to wave Toni off. “I feel okay,” she wants to say.

 

_IfeelnothingIfeelnothingIfeelnothing-_

 

But the words won’t come to her fast enough and Toni’s already pulling her up and guiding her to the back of her motorcycle and putting the helmet on her head and saying, “Hold on tight!” and-

 

And Betty doesn’t really have any fight left in her. She circles her arms around Toni’s waist and rests her chin on the other girl’s shoulder and closes her eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_The beginning of the end started with…_

 

“Haven’t you done enough? Are you fucking sorry?”

 

“Am I sorry? Why would I be sorry?”

 

“How could you tell Valerie about me and Veronica?”

 

“Maybe because she deserved to know her boyfriend was cheating on her with another girl!”

 

“That wasn’t your decision to make!”

 

“I wasn’t going to let you lie to her!”

 

“God, you’re the worst.”

 

“… Maybe I should go.”

 

“Maybe you should.”

 

“I’ll see you around, Arch.”

 

“Goodbye, Betty.”

 

“… Goodbye.”

 

_To be continued…_

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her thoughts are white noise. She barely registers that the bike has stopped, that Toni is helping her off her seat and throwing Betty’s arm over her shoulder, that Toni is hauling her somewhere, pushing her through a door, and, “What the hell?”

 

_Is that…?_

 

“Found her on the side of the road. Wasn’t going to just leave her there. Would’ve brought her to mine, but Sweet Pea’s crashing, and there’s not a ton of room for her. So I figured-”

 

“Thank you, Toni.”

 

They’re moving again. Betty groans. Toni reassures, “It’s okay, B. We got you.”

 

Then strong arms are scooping her up and lifting her, setting her gently down on the couch. Then someone’s laying a blanket over her, tucking her in.

 

Betty thinks she says, “Thank you.”

 

And she thinks she hears him say, “You never have to thank me.”

 

But Betty is tired, and she falls asleep before she has the chance to process.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Part two started with…_

 

“Betty, can we talk?”

 

“Of course, V, what’s up?”

 

“Listen, I overheard you and Kevin this morning.”

 

“Veronica…”

 

“I’m flattered, I am. And B, I care about you so much. Just-”

 

“Just not like that. I get it, V.”

 

“But I could, one day. Wait for me?”

 

_That’s not fair that’snotfairTHAT’SNOTFAIR-_

 

“Of course.”

 

_To be continued…_

 

 

 

 

 

 

She wakes up in discomfort. Her throat is dry from dehydration. Her head throbs as consequence. She makes a move to stand.

 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Hands are on her shoulders, keeping her in place. “Stay right there.”

 

“Water,” she whines. A glass is in grasp in seconds. She drains it just as fast. Then he comes into focus, all of a sudden. He seems less intense, in the dim light of the trailer. More at peace. She likes it.

 

Betty’s quiet for too long, because he does the head tilt thing and she just knows a sarcastic comment is on the tip of his tongue. She braces herself for the inevitable. But instead, he goes, “Your mom’ll be here in about an hour. I had my dad call her after Toni brought you here.”

 

She bites her lip. _Her mother is going to be pissed._ “Thank you.”

 

He’s still examining her with a certain glimmer in his eyes. “What happened?”

 

She fixates on a snag in the blanket draped over her. “What do you mean?”

 

He exhales in exasperation. “I mean, what were you doing on the side of the road, Betty?”

 

Her fingers pull at the thread. “I was on a run. I fell.”

 

He doesn’t seem satisfied with this answer. “When did you last eat?”

 

She finally meets his gaze. Jughead seems worried. It makes her head spin. “I… can’t remember.”

 

He stands, then, and Betty wants to call after him, to ask him to come back, because _I don’t want to be alone don’t leave me here alone I’m supposed to hate you but I can’t be alone-_

 

“What do you want from Pop’s?” He holds up his phone. It must’ve been on the kitchen counter. Her shoulders drop, no longer tense. But her stomach is still knotted.

 

“I don’t have money on me.”

 

He raises a brow at her. “My treat, obviously.”

 

It’s ludicrous, his offer to pay for her. From what she remembers, which is a lot more than she’s willing to admit, he’d always been crazy possessive over his food. Him offering to buy her a meal felt… intimate. She coughs. “I’m really not that hungry.” His eyes get dark, after she says that.

 

“You need to eat something, Betty.” And it’s not like she doesn’t want to eat. But her insides feel tight and she wants to vomit and if she tries to eat, she has a gut feeling the food won’t stay down. Jughead walks further into the kitchen. “How about soup? I’ve got chicken noodle.”

 

If it gets him off her case… “Sure. That works.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Her mistake was when she said…_

 

“How could you keep this from me? Did you not trust me?”

 

“Betty, we didn’t want you to flip out like you are now.”

 

“Archie, the only reason I’m upset is because you hid this from me! I thought you were my friends!”

 

“If you hadn’t made that stupid rule-”

 

“I only made that rule so you two would start talking to each other again!”

 

“Really? Or did you make it because you were selfish?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You heard me. I think you made that rule because you knew we didn’t want to date you, so you tried to keep us apart.”

 

“You are such a bitch, Veronica!”

 

“And you are a monster, Elizabeth Cooper! You’re worse than my father!”

 

“Where is this coming from? What did I do wrong?”

 

“You have been against me and Archie from the start! You’ve always tried to break us up, and I’m done being friends with someone who’s always looking for a way to sabotage me!”

 

“Fine. I hope you two are happy together, because you definitely deserve each other. This is over. I’m out.”

 

_Don’t let me go don’t let me go don’t let me go-_

 

“Then go.”

 

_The end…_

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Okay, it hadn’t been that simple._

 

It had started in April when they were in eighth grade. Betty and Veronica were doing homework in the library one day after school when Veronica blurted, “Have you ever seen Archie shirtless?”

 

Betty paused, dumbstruck. “Um… What?”

 

Veronica wrung her hands, embarrassed at the outburst. “It’s just… I mean, he’s your neighbor and all. And he’s been working out because he wants to try out for the football team freshman year and-”

 

Something crept into Betty’s lungs and branched out, making it hard to inhale.

 

_Deep breaths, Betty. One breath, two breaths, three…_

 

“V, do you like, like Archie?” She asked, all furrowing brows and scrunched nose. Veronica blushed.

 

“Um… Maybe?”

 

“Oh.” _Breathe, Betty_. “Huh.” _One breath, two breaths, three, c’mon…_

 

Veronica took notice. “Oh, B. Do you…?”

 

Betty knew what her best friend was implying. Timidly, she nodded. Veronica sighed. “Well, then.”

 

“Well, then…” Betty repeated, trailing off. What did one do in this situation?

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

As it turned out, Betty hadn’t needed a plan, because Veronica had one prepared. V straightened. “There’s only one option to keep the peace.”

 

“Yeah? What’s that?”

 

Veronica held up her pinkie. “Let’s make a vow. No matter what, we will never let a boy come between us.”

 

She knew what this meant. She _knew._ But she linked pinkies with Veronica anyway. She agreed anyway.

 

_See Betty fake it till she fucking makes it._

 

Betty loved Archie, always. But she loved Veronica more.

 

So that’s why, when the end of the year semiformal was approaching, she and Veronica agreed to go together instead of going with dates. That’s why when they discovered that beautiful, talented Valerie Brown was mad for their Archie, they pushed him to ask her. And that’s how it all started. Because one slow dance led to a first kiss between a budding couple, which led to a first date at Pop’s, which led to holding hands when they were out with friends, which led to the dreaded labels of “boyfriend” and “girlfriend”.

 

Which led to _jealousy jealousy jealousy._ Which led to _ValerieandArchie_ becoming _ValerieandArchiewhenhe’snotwithVeronica_. Which led to Betty finding out. Which led to _ValerieandArchie_ becoming Valerie and Archie, separate. Which led to _“Haven’t you done enough? Are you fucking sorry?”_ Which led to _ArchieandVeronica._

 

Which eventually led to Betty, with holes shaped like her best friends cut out of her heart.

 

_Bits and pieces. She’s left with bits and pieces._

 

 

 

 

 

 

He’s quiet while she eats. He stares her down until she’s finished the bowl, and then he tries to get her to accept another.

 

“I’m full, thanks,” she turns it down, uncomfortable. He relents. She doesn’t know what to say. The silence stretches.

 

“I read your article,” he says. She winces, prepared for the worst. Most times he’s critical, at best. Other times printouts of her work get crumpled and thrown away. Co-editor is a laughable title, because he’s always got the upper hand when it comes to them. At least she draws little smiley faces on her fellow staffers’ papers when she feels she’s been harsh. He feels no remorse. “Nicely written. Good job.” She wants to do a double take. Instead, she doubles over in laughter. “ _What?_ ” He sounds irked. She laughs harder.

 

“I- I just-” and she pauses to slow and steady her breathing, before telling him, “that’s literally the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say to me.”

 

He frowns. “Betty-”

 

A car horn honks outside. She gets up, less woozy now, more balanced. “Thank you for the soup. And for letting me sleep on your coach.” She doesn’t give him a chance to respond as she whirls around and bounds out the door.

 

Her mother waits until she’s buckled into her seat, until they’re pulling out of the trailer park to start berating her. “Honestly, Elizabeth, you should know better than to go for a run when you’re sick. If Antoinette hadn’t found you, well, I shudder at the thought of how things could’ve gone down. I want you to write a thank-you note to Jughead and FP for looking after you until I got off work, and-”

 

It’s only ten minutes into the lecture that Betty realizes he hadn’t called her _Cooper._ He’d called her _Betty._

 

She isn’t sure what to make of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter should give you a little bit more insight on the fight. Don't you worry, the dirty details are yet to come... Honestly, Toni Topaz is so under appreciated. And lastly, this marks the start of a darker turn for our dear Betty... but maybe the start of a change for the better in Jughead? Find out next time! THANK YOU for all of the comments and the kudos! You guys make my life bright <3


	4. gone somewhere deeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty is rebuilding. But she doesn't have to shoulder the weight alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "Oblivion" by Bastille.

Up until the end, they had been inseparable. Looking for one? They were with the other two, assumedly. Likely stuffed into the same booth at Pop’s, Betty and Veronica huddled together on one side, Archie sprawled out on the other. Maybe the drive-in, if something good was playing, or maybe the library, if there was an especially strenuous project due soon. But always together. Always.

 

That kind of closeness had never scared Betty. She was naturally affectionate, generous with her hugs. She liked cuddling together with her best friends on a couch on a particularly rainy day, binge-watching a series or, if V fell asleep on her shoulder, playing video games into the night with Archie. She liked texting her friends at all hours, going on runs together, going on vacations together. She loved her two best friends more than anything, and it had never bothered her before.

 

_Before, can we go back to before, I miss before…_

 

Maybe she should have seen the triangle coming, then. Because it wasn’t like no one had ever commented on the three of them. Riverdale was a small town. Everyone had an opinion about everything.

 

“Ah, if it isn’t Archie Andrews and his girlfriends!” Cheryl’s typical greeting went.

 

Or maybe a “Damn, Andrews, just pick one already!” from Reggie.

 

“Beronchie,” Kevin called them, or sometimes, “my favorite polyamorous ship”.

 

Alice always looked extremely confused if she came home alone. “Where are your shadows?”

 

And though the booth wasn’t reserved, it was always open for them when they went to Pop’s, like it was waiting for them. Betty had no doubt it was Pop’s doing.

 

Maybe she should have seen it before.

 

_Before, can we go back to before, I miss before…_

 

But they can’t go back, can they?

 

_Haven’t you done enough? Are you fucking sorry?_

 

_You are a monster, Elizabeth Cooper._

 

_This is over. I’m out._

 

_Don’t let me go don’t let me go don’t let me go-_

_Then go._

 

The damage, as they say, has already been done.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Kevin tells her he has to get to school early to prep the auditorium for the dance on Friday, Reggie offers to pick her up. Though, “offers” is a nice way of putting it— he doesn’t really give her much choice.

 

“BC!” He yells after her when she’s getting out of chemistry, on her way to English. His arm swings around her shoulder, and he turns them left. He’s done it all week. Archie and Veronica have English together second period, and they walk down the science hall together for third. They don’t turn left. Reggie seems to know this. “How’s my favorite Vixen?”

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

_Let me feel something please I feel nothing save me savemeSAVEME—_

 

“I’m okay, Reg.” She rolls her eyes, forcing a small smile. Reggie notices. He brightens considerably. “Also, I’m not your favorite Vixen.”

 

Reggie huffs. “Are too!”

 

She gives him the “are-you-shitting-me” stare. His infatuation with a certain musical sensation is secret to none. “Josie?” He flushes, scratching his neck.

 

“Fine then. Favorite blonde.”

 

She crinkles her nose at that, and his hand comes up to tug on the end of her ponytail. “Hey!” She swats at him. He snickers.

 

“So, Betts,” he starts casually, “Keller told me you need some company tomorrow morning. When do you need me?”

 

Um. “What?”

 

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “I’m giving you a ride tomorrow, Betty. When should I pick you up?”

 

She tries to shake him off, really. But Reggie is set on it.

 

It’s kind of a mindfuck, this big brother persona Reggie has adopted when it comes to her. She and Reggie had interacted minimally before the triangle, and even during the triangle, they rarely talked. But now no one’s there to defend her when the guys on the football team call her a prude, because that had always been _Archie’s_ role.

 

And now it was Reggie’s. In a way, losing the other two-thirds of their toxic triangle had been mind-blowing. Because in all honestly, Betty was not alone. Far from it.

 

_Bits and pieces. She’s left with bits and pieces._

 

But out of the ashes, she rises. And so do her hopes.

 

Maybe, _maybe,_ she’s starting to heal.

 

(She can dream.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

When she arrives at the Blue and Gold offices that day, Jughead doesn’t look up from his laptop, or acknowledge her, at all. It’s strange, but she doesn’t comment on the fact that he seems to be ignoring her. She sits down. She pulls out her reporter’s notebook. And she gets to work.

 

Toni and Kevin walk in, arms linked, a little while later.

 

“My dear Princess Cooper,” Toni says in a fake British accent. “Your presence has been requested this Friday night at a sleepover hosted by none other than Queen Cheryl Blossom.”

 

Because it’s them, Toni and Kevin, Betty immediately knows what the circumstances for this little gathering are. “Yours, mine, or Kev’s?”

 

“Mine,” Kevin replies. The three of them have come to an unspoken understanding. They know why Cheryl has summoned them.

 

“I’ll be there.” Toni claps her hands together, beaming, and Kevin gives her a big thumbs-up. They pick up their assignments for the week: Toni’s taking the dance photos, and Kevin’s doing the dance report, so they’ll take Cheryl home and meet up with her at Kevin’s house. She’s still not going to the dance, a decision she’d made before it was even announced. Because before the triangle, she and Veronica and Archie had gone together, one girl gracing each arm. And during the triangle, she’d been with V. So in the aftermath, going without them feels wrong.

 

Toni kisses her cheek and Kevin pulls her in for a quick hug and then they’re gone.

 

“Betty,” Jughead says suddenly, abruptly, like he couldn’t stop her name from slipping out of his mouth. “I wanted to-” He cuts himself off. She chances a glance at him, only seeing his beanie, his head in his hands.

 

“… Jughead?” She murmurs, anticipating the worst.

 

He takes a deep breath, a noticeable breath. _One breath, two breaths, three…_ “Do you want to go to Pop’s on Friday? To edit stories with me? Since you’re not going to the dance?”

 

She’s taken aback. _What?_ “What?”

 

He rubs the back of his neck, a tick she’s always noticed. _Is he nervous?_ “Ethel said you shouldn’t be alone this Friday, but everyone else is going to the dance, so-”

 

Ah. Ethel. Now it makes sense. Though her friend is afraid of confrontation, afraid to get caught on the wrong side of the war, afraid to be cast out as a traitor, she’s looking out for her. She thinks she remembers that Ethel and Jughead are lab partners, or something like that. Her head feels cloudy. Which explains her response. “Yeah, sure.” He looks as surprised as she feels.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

_Honestly? Who knows?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is a tightness in the air when she slips into Reggie’s car the next morning. He tries to be subtle about it, but he keeps looking her over whenever they hit a red light. The scrutiny makes Betty wiggle in her seat, uneasy.

 

“Reg, can you cut it out?” She can’t contain it anymore. Reggie looks appropriately ashamed.

 

“I-” He sighs, and Betty shifts again, partly pressed against the passenger door. “Betty, you know you can ask for help, right?” She tries to interject _I’m okay, Reggie, I’m always okay, I have it under control_ but he just keeps talking. “We all see it, Betts, we see you trying to shoulder it all alone. But you’re not alone. You never are, you know?”

 

She thinks of Kevin, waking up early so he can get dropped off at her house and walk with her. She thinks of Cheryl, stretching with her, standing by her, holding her hand. She thinks of Ethel, making arrangements so she never feels abandoned. She thinks of Toni, taking on extra projects to ease her workload, looking out for her when she’s running. She thinks of Reggie, late for his classes because he’s walking to hers.

 

And strangely, for half a moment, she thinks of Jughead.

 

_“You never have to thank me.”_

 

“You’re not alone, Betty,” Reggie repeats. And they don’t speak again, not even when they arrive, not even while he walks her to history. But she pulls him in for a bone-crushing hug, and she knows that he understands what’s left unsaid.

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the end of the day, as she’s opening her locker, she feels a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Hey, B,” Valerie starts. “Heard you’re not going to the dance.”

 

Word around Riverdale travels _too fast too fast_. It’s a blessing and a curse.

 

“Homework,” she says, truly apologetic, because the Pussycats are playing tonight and if not for the unfortunate circumstances, she’d go to support them. Because she still remembers, will never forget the mid-September night she held Valerie Brown’s heart in her hands, watched it wilt and shrivel with the realization that her boyfriend was lost to her.

 

“We’ll play a song for you,” Val links her pinkie with Betty’s. “‘Some Shade of Blue’.”

 

It’s their song, the anthem of _ValerieandBetty_ when they were desperately in love with a boy too wrapped up in another girl. Betty knows the lyrics by heart, was with Val as it was being composed. She doesn’t think she’ll ever forget.

 

_Whisper a secret, tell me a lie_

_Spin me a story with us intertwined_

_Are you a fantasy? Are you a dream?_

_I’ve learned not to trust things that sparkle and gleam_

_And if you were to cut me in two_

_My lungs would be some shade of blue_

 

Under her breath, she hums the melody. Val notices, shoots her a soft look, a fond look, and tightens the hold between their fingers. Down the hall, Mel is bounding towards them, running to embrace them both.

 

“I’d better intercept her. Don’t want her to crush you. Catch you later, B.”

 

Val lets go of her hand and meets Mel halfway, arms around each other, looking every bit like a yet to be written love story. Betty wonders when they’ll figure out what everyone else has known forever.

 

She sings the words to Val’s song to her under her breath.

 

_Kiss me so tender, love me so sweet_

_Sing me a melody I’ll learn to repeat_

_Do you adore me as I adore you?_

_Or do you still see her like she hung the moon?_

_Well, love’s a good color on you_

_But my heart is still some shade of blue_

 

Blue before.

 

_A strong girl, scuffed knees and calloused hands and a degree of toughness unparalleled to anyone else in my family…_

 

Pink during.

 

_Flower petals and bubblegum, strawberry milkshakes and softly glowing smiles…_

 

But now she is simply gray.

 

_No color left inside, just a hollow heart and aching memories, the burning reminder is more than I can bear…_

 

In her heart, she knows she would do anything to go back.

 

_But we can’t go back, can we?_

 

She walks home alone again. The world goes by around her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pop’s had been theirs. She’s still half heartsick every time she walks by, the neon lights making her nauseous. She remembers every tease about her dipping fries in her shake, every bet on who could eat the most, every serious conversation where she’d grab their hands and cry. Betty hasn’t been back inside since it all went down.

 

Being back here with Jughead is… surreal. It feels like the first time she’s ever been here, and it feels like no time has passed since the spring. No one else from school is here. Jughead had been right. Everyone is at the dance.

 

He’d come to her house to pick her up. She’d hopped down the stairs, two at a time, still in her perfect and neat attire from earlier today, still humming, still making an effort to shake off the earworm of her past, the song that no longer applies to her because she’s a shadow of her former self.

 

_You rule the world, but you walk amongst villains_

_I curse all their crimes, but you’re the one killing_

_There’s so much to hide so I bury my feelings_

_You ask how I’m doing, I don’t think I’m breathing_

_If you’d seen all that I have been through_

_You’d know why I’m some shade of blue…_

 

Jughead was oddly silent, offering her his helmet and letting her hop up on the back of his bike, her arms around his waist before he had a chance to tell her to hold on tight.

 

And now they sit across from each other, in a booth that did not belong to _BettyandArchieandVeronica_ once upon a time, and she doesn’t know what to say to him. The same, however, does not apply to him.

 

“What happened?”

 

Her head jerks up from where it’s rested on her chin, where she’d been glaring at the fries because her stomach is growling and she really _, really_ wants one, but her brain has decided against it. “I’m sorry?”

 

“With Veronica and Archie,” he clarifies, and he doesn’t notice how she pales or that her throat is closing up in panic because he just keeps talking, saying, “because I never see you with them anymore and everybody seems to understand that the two of them are not allowed to interact with you anymore but no one that I’ve talked to knows why.”

 

The only part of that conversation she’d picked up on was, “You talk to people about me?”

 

As Jughead rolls his eyes, her fingers curl and cut her palms. Her heartbeat quickens. _Please no please no please no please no…_

 

At the same time Jughead says, “Betty…”, Betty blurts, “Why are you so invested in this?”

 

He shrugs noncommittally. “I’m curious as to why the golden trio had such a devastating break-up. Sue me.”

 

She swirls her straw in her milkshake glass. “It’s just weird.”

 

There’s the head tilt. “Why is it so weird?”

 

She bites her lip. “Because you hate me, remember?”

 

He stiffens, after she says it. She peers at him through her lashes. He looks so uncomfortable. Then, “Why do you think I hate you?”

 

It’s her turn to shrug. “You’ve tormented me since we were four. There are plenty of examples to choose from.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.

 

“Betty-” And just then, Pop comes over to refill Jughead’s coffee, interrupting what Betty is sure was about to be somewhere along the lines of, _Betty, you’re kind of annoying, you made it so easy because you are boring, plain Elizabeth Cooper, and there is such a wide variety of things to mock. I’m just curious as to what triggered the realization in your friends._

 

He doesn’t say this. And he doesn’t comment on the fact that she has hardly touched her food. He doesn’t say much of anything after “Betty”.

 

There it is again. _Betty_ , not _Cooper_. It’s out of place, in her opinion. At the same time, it’s a welcome change.

 

They edit stories in silence. When the check comes, he pays for them both. Betty’s food sits uneaten at the table as they exit the diner. Jughead drives her to Kevin’s. She thanks him, and turns to the front door of her friend’s house.

 

“Betty,” Jughead calls after her. He sounds conflicted and raw. She looks back. “I really don’t,” he says. “Hate you, that is.”

 

She smiles. He takes off after that. She watches him go.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

_Something. I feel something._

 

What it is, exactly, is unclear. But it's good. It feels good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is so BUSY right now and writing this story is keeping me sane. I love you all and I hope you're liking this. If updates come slower it's because I'm literally outlining and writing the bulk of this story between the hours of two and four in the morning. I'm going to attempt to at least publish one or two chapters a week. Hope you all enjoy this little installment!


	5. the fear of falling apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheryl, Toni, Kevin, Betty. The four of them are a lot of things.
> 
> But above all else, they are loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "This Is Gospel" by Panic! At The Disco.

Betty Cooper is five when she meets Kevin, the sheriff’s son, when Moose Mason pushes him off the swing set at recess and he starts to sniffle.

 

“Hey!” Betty stomps over to them, Archie following, wary of her impending wrath. “What do you think you’re doing?” Moose, for his part, looks out-of-his-mind terrified of her.

 

“B, the line on the slide isn’t so long anymore, c’mon.” Never one for confrontation, Archie wills her to back down. Betty doesn’t.

 

She is five, and she is a Cooper girl, and she is stubborn as they come. The urge to do something, _anything_ , even when everyone else is content to look away, thrums beneath her skin. She stands steadfast, eyes on fire. “Leave him alone, Moose.”

 

And Moose seems to come to the realization that he is at least a head taller than the blonde girl in front of him, and he could definitely take her in a fight, and he goes, “Why should I?” Which is the _wrong_ thing to say to Elizabeth Cooper, even at age five, and Archie knows this, and Kevin knows this, and _hell_ , even Moose knows this.

 

She levels him with a look in her eyes that could bring tyrants to their knees. She is five, she is a Cooper girl, and “Kevin is my friend.” And Moose knows _exactly_ what’s left unsaid. _And nobody_ _messes with my friends._

 

“You’re no fun anyway, Betty. I’d rather play with Reggie than any of you,” and with that, Moose takes off. Archie and Kevin and Betty all know what really sent him running, but they don’t address it. Betty offers Kevin a hand, which he gratefully takes.

 

“Thank you,” he says, shyly. Betty just smiles.

 

“You’re welcome. Now c’mon, Archie says the slide line is short!” Kevin had looked shocked, at the time, and later Betty learns it’s because she’d just declared him as her friend, just like that, and _followed through_. Betty doesn’t think she’d ever considered leaving Kevin behind.

 

Kevin is her _friend_. And Betty will always look out for her friends. It’s just who she is.

 

 

 

 

 

She and Kevin are twelve, sitting together at lunch, waiting for Veronica and Archie to show, when he says, “Betty, have you ever liked anyone other than Archie? Like, _like-liked_?”

 

And for a split second, Betty pictures Veronica Lodge in a fourth-grade cafeteria bathroom, eyes red from tears, neck bare of pearls, but the most real and beautiful smile on her face. But she shakes that off quickly. Veronica is her friend, and nothing more.

 

“No?” She settles, shrugging. “Why do you ask?”

 

And Kevin bites his lip, and Betty gets this odd gut feeling that her response to Kevin’s next words will make or break their entire friendship.

 

“What if…” He stops himself, after that. He fiddles with his hands and he doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

 

“Kev,” she feels herself say, desperately wanting for her friend to look at her and feel safe. “You can tell me anything.”

 

So when Kevin goes, “What if I’ve only ever like-liked one person, too?”, Betty’s response is, “If I’ve only ever liked one person, who am I to judge?”.

 

And when Kevin adds, “What if that person isn’t a girl?”, Betty says, “Oooh! What’s his name?”

 

She knows not to mock. She knows not to tease. And really, what’s the big deal if Kevin doesn’t like-like girls?

 

Kev’s cheeks go _red red red_ , and Betty spends the period listening to him gush over Moose Mason’s eyes. Veronica and Archie never show.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty met Toni… shortly after she met Jughead, actually.

 

Betty was kind of known for being a bit much, which went well with her tenacity, her tomboyishness, her overalls and her hand-me-down t-shirts and well-worn, well-loved sneakers. What it clashes with is making friends, which Betty had some trouble with before she met Archie. Jughead, however, had no such problem, and could usually be found raising hell on the playground with his crew: Toni, Fangs, and Sweet Pea.

 

Of course, since these three were friends with Jughead Jones of all people, Betty assumed they had no taste, and as such, had no care for them.

 

That was, until “The Snickerdoodle Incident”.

 

After the teacher had pulled a kicking and screaming Betty into another room for some much needed space to think, Betty had been fuming. The Jones boy had always known just how to get under her skin, but this was crossing a line. And on her birthday, nonetheless!

 

There was a knock at the door. And then… “Betty?”

 

A small brunette in hand-me-downs much too big, not unlike Betty’s, tiptoed into the room, hand behind her back. She scuffed the ground with her shoe. “I’m sorry. We took your cookies. That was mean.”

 

Toni looked sad, and Betty was never really good at staying mad at anyone other than Jughead. “It’s okay. I can ask my mommy to make more. Maybe we could share some?”

 

Toni gave her the biggest grin, and all of a sudden, Betty had a friend for life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or, well, Betty finds out friendship is more than just eating cookies together. Because when she is in sixth grade, she has Archie and Kevin and Veronica, and the three of them are hard to juggle. Toni dyes her hair a few days before they start middle school, and falls into the leather-wearing crowd who spend a good portion of their free time in the detention room. Betty misses her. She can never tell if the feeling is mutual.

 

And then they’re freshmen in high school, and Veronica becomes a Vixen a year before Betty does, and Betty swears up and down it’s fine. It’s fine, because Betty does her homework on the bleachers and maybe sometimes longingly stares at Veronica, but only when the Vixens are in the middle of a routine and nobody will notice.

 

Except somebody does notice, and that somebody is Toni.

 

“Veronica Lodge, huh?”

 

And Toni is goddamn beautiful, has only grown more gorgeous in their time apart, but Betty only cares about the words out of her mouth. “What?”

 

“I know the signs of pining, B. I’ve been in the same boat.” She shoots an elusive smirk in Betty’s direction, then nods her head at the raven-haired goddess. “But why is she dating Andrews if you’re the one leaving her gifts in her locker?”

 

Before she can think better of it, Betty blurts, “Because I made her think they were from Archie.” Then she hides her face in her hands, so her next words end up slightly muffled. “God, what’s wrong with me?”

 

“Nothing, babe,” Toni squeezes her shoulder gently. Betty looks up at Toni, but Toni’s eyes are somewhere else. “We just want what we can’t have.”

 

And if Toni gazes at a certain red-headed cheer captain a little more longingly that most, Betty doesn’t mention it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Betty arrives at the sleepover, Kevin and Toni snap their heads towards her, identical guilty expressions painted on their faces. Cheryl is nowhere to be found.

 

She sighs. “What did you two do?”

 

She hears an indignant squeak. “Off me, you heathens!”

 

Betty pinches the bridge of her nose, fighting off her inevitable headache. “Toni, Kevin, please stop sitting on Cheryl.”

 

Sheepishly, they move to the couch. Cheryl bounces up, brushing back her hair, frowning. “Cut it out, you gays, or this is the last time you get to bask in my presence.”

 

“You mean ‘you guys’?” Betty raises a brow. Cheryl huffs.

 

“You heard me.”

 

“Alrighty then!” Toni claps, jolting the other three out of various states of disarray. “Let’s change into pajamas, and then we can break out the face masks and the shitty rom-coms!”

 

Betty feels her body freeze up, immediately knowing something is about to go very, very wrong. “Yeah, okay.”

 

So the four of them head up to Kev’s room, where Kevin promptly grabs his change of clothes and shuts himself in his bathroom, allowing the girls to change in private. He’s just that respectful, even though he knows they’re fine with changing in front of him. Her best friend is a gentleman, and Betty loves him for it.

 

Toni pulls on a tank and some sweatpants, Cheryl sets out an expensive-looking matching set, and Betty has an old sweatshirt of Polly’s, because she can’t seem to stay warm, these days, and some blue flannel pajama pants. But when she sheds her sweater, leaving her exposed in just her bra, Toni and Cheryl make similar noises of surprise.

 

“Dearest cousin, have you lost weight?”

 

“Wow, B, you look _good_.”

 

Betty flushes scarlet, _red red red_ from embarrassment. “I’ve just been dieting, trying to get in shape for this season.”

 

Toni wolf-whistles. “Damn, you look fine, girl.” Betty kind of wants to keel over and die, but Cheryl interrupts.

 

“Leave Betty alone, you coquette,” Cheryl reprimands, looking a little envious that she’s not the sole focus of Toni’s attention, “though I must say, Betty, you do look thinner.”

 

Betty really wishes the ground would swallow her whole now, but she says, “Thank you, Cheryl,” and hopes that will be the end of it. Judging from the look in Cheryl’s narrowed eyes, it won’t be, but she ignores it for now because Kevin, her savior, pops in just then.

 

“So what are we watching first?” She could kiss him. But Kevin is gay and Betty is hung up on her ex-best friends, so she doesn’t.

 

Instead, she says, “The Princess Bride, duh. I thought that was a given.”

 

So they shuffle down the stairs, and Toni brings out an assortment of masks made for sensitive skin (because Betty can’t wear all the harsh, scented stuff her friends can, unless she wants to break out in a rash), and Betty feels like she’s escaped her cousin’s scrutiny.

 

Until Cheryl says, “Let’s play ‘Truth or Dare’ first.” And because Toni and Kevin are fun and exciting people, they agree. And Betty wants to curl up in the fetal position and die again.

 

But surprisingly, before Cheryl can come after Betty, Kevin comes after her. “Cheryl, truth or dare?” And Cheryl knows Kevin, knows exactly what he’s capable of, but Cheryl stills says, “Dare.”

 

And Kevin smiles likes the cat who caught the canary.

 

“So, Cheryl,” he starts, “I dare you to kiss Toni.”

 

And Betty’s jaw drops. She hadn’t thought the plan was _this._

 

Maybe it’s time to rewind a tad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cheryl and Betty hadn’t become close until post-Veronica. They’d been hedging on kinship, once, when Jason had died in the fire that had burnt down half of Thornhill. Once, Betty had held Cheryl’s hand _too tight too tight_ at a _too soon_ funeral. The next day, Cheryl had called Betty fat.

 

But now Penelope and Clifford Blossom are gone more often than not for business, and Cheryl and Nana Rose lead quiet lives in Thistle House.

 

It hadn’t been too long before Cheryl had found out about the triangle’s implosion, and suddenly she’d had a fiery gossip fiend in her home, lounging across her bed like she owned it.

 

“So, Betty Crocker, heard you cut ties with that wannabe Lodge and the brat next door. How’s that going for you?”

 

And Betty had tried, really, she had, to keep her composure. But it was June, and it was all too fresh, and she couldn’t have stopped the tears from coming anyway. She remembers that Cheryl seemed alarmed.

 

“Whoa there.” It hadn’t stopped her from crying, but then Cheryl had hugged her, held her while she sobbed, and strangely enough, in her typically cutthroat cousin’s arms, Betty had felt comforted. Strangely enough, a bond had been forged.

 

And then, “Kevin says you were in love with Veronica, once.”

 

And, okay, _whoa_ , she was definitely not expecting that. “Kevin says what now?”

 

It’s not like she had been in the closet. In fact, really, it was kind of the opposite. But, until that moment, apparently, exactly four people had known about her feelings for her other half, one of those four being the girl herself. Betty remembers giggling out of nervousness, not exactly sure what to do in that situation.

 

“Uh, what?”

 

Cheryl rolled her eyes, and ah, there she was, the HBIC of Riverdale High. “Relax, cousin, I’m not out to out you. But, um, out of sheer curiosity… what was that like?”

 

That was Betty’s moment of realization that _holy shit, Cheryl Blossom likes girls, too._ And a little poking and prodding around the two openly queer kids in this godforsaken town had confirmed these suspicions she’d had for a while.

 

And it was practically common knowledge that Toni Topaz had the biggest fucking crush on Cheryl Blossom. So, of course, Betty was the first to know about Kevin’s plan to get the two of them together.

 

Except, apparently, Kevin’s plan was a little more grade school that Betty had anticipated.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cheryl looks as white as Betty thinks she is. “What now?”

 

“I dare you, Cheryl Blossom,” Kevin repeats slowly, “to kiss our lovely friend, Miss Toni Topaz.”

 

But Kevin’s plan isn’t… well, isn’t going according to plan, and while Cheryl blanches further, Toni just looks hurt. “Kev, drop it.”

 

Kev raises his hands like he’s about to say, “Hey, she picked dare, that’s on her,” but before he can, Cheryl squeezes her eyes shut and the words, “I have something to say because I owe you guys the truth,” rush out.

 

Toni goes, “Cherry, you don’t owe us anything, babe.”

 

But Cheryl Blossom is a brilliant bonfire, and all it takes is a little gas and the world goes up in flames. Cheryl Blossom is a beautiful blaze, and once her fuse is lit, there’s little left to do but run for cover. Cheryl Blossom is a bitter burning girl, caught in the smoking chokehold of Riverdale’s rampant small town scrutiny. Cheryl Blossom is _terrified_ , and Betty hopes to God she’ll learn one day that she doesn’t need to be. Not with them.

 

“I’m bisexual,” Cheryl breathes out, a long exhale that has been waiting to escape for a while. Her eyes shine with unshed tears, and Betty wants to reach out.

 

Toni beats her to it, brushing Cheryl’s hand with her own. “Oh, baby… We know.”

 

Cheryl gapes, speechless for the first time in her existence. Kevin snickers, and Betty attempts to shut him up with a heated glare. It doesn’t have any effect. Figures. “Cheryl, you’re not exactly subtle. And besides, I’m gay, and Toni and Betty are bi. Our collective gaydars were powerful enough to deduce your sexuality long ago.”

 

Cheryl’s still in shock, and so Toni says, “We knew as soon as you nicknamed us the Gay Avengers, bombshell.”

 

The redhead finds her words, then. “Then why didn’t you say anything?” Betty decides it’s time to speak up.

 

“We wanted you to choose when you told us. We wanted it to be the right time for you. Nothing we could’ve said would’ve made you accept yourself.”

 

“You have to love yourself first,” Toni says, “before you’re receptive to all the love that’s out there for you.”

 

Cheryl Blossom is _red red red_ with lust and fury and unparalleled passion, and her cheeks are _red_ _red red_ with first love and fierce appreciation for her friends. Betty and Toni open their arms simultaneously, and suddenly Cheryl is diving, and the four of them are a mess of tangled limbs and teary eyes. In this room of warm feeling, Betty’s heart beats in time to a tune of long-forgotten promise. Her mind sings a song of kind intentions and care.

 

Because Cheryl Blossom is many things. She is an unflinching force of nature, she is a scared young girl, she is Betty Cooper’s anchor. But above all of that, above all things, Cheryl Blossom is loved.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

Loved. Above all else, Betty feels loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, hey there. It's been a while. I literally made myself sick with stress and now I'm like a week late with the new chapter but uh... here it is, I guess? Anyway, I am a bi MESS and everything in this chapter has happened to me or been witnessed by me in real life because my fellow gays and I have no chill whatsoever. This chapter is less on the drama between B,V, and A and less on the buildup of B and J, because Toni, Cheryl, and Kevin do not get enough love and appreciation so Betty's gonna love and appreciate them. Hope you enjoy, thank you for the comments and kudos, and as always, I'll see you next time. ;)
> 
> ALSO if you're like me and you have an inordinate amount of love for podfics (or a normal amount will do, I guess), then check out HufflepuffBetty and their podfic of this fic! Seriously guys, it's amazing and I cried the first time I listened to it. No joke.


	6. blood underneath your fingernails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty is face to face with Archie Andrews and Veronica Lodge for the first time in two months, and she has no fucking idea what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "Looking Too Closely" by Fink.

It’s easy, in theory. Push their best friend to date someone who is, in their opinion, perfect for him. They both love music, they’re both easygoing and excitable, and they’re both _incredibly_ pretty people.

 

In application, however, convincing Archie Andrews that Valerie Brown is the perfect girl for him proves to be harder than they thought.

 

“Val’s kind of a knockout, don’t you think?” is how Veronica decides to start the whole thing off one day at lunch. Betty coughs violently. She had pleaded with V to let her feel out the situation during science, because she sits with Archie and Val towards the back of the classroom, and she can get them alone without making things awkward. But it’s Veronica, and subtle isn’t really what she does.

 

Archie’s face matches his hair. “Er… she’s really nice, I guess?” It’s clear he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond.

 

Veronica huffs, and Betty knows she was expecting something more. “Well, rumor has it, she’s crushing on you _hard._ ”

 

“ _What_?” He sputters. Betty wants to slam her head on the table. Jesus, Ron is blunt today.

 

“You should ask her to the dance.” Veronica takes a sip of her smoothie, and Archie stares at her, gobsmacked.

 

“I- I-”

 

“Betty and I are getting ready and going together,” Veronica continues, as if she hasn’t noticed that Archie’s brain is shutting down, “so you don’t need to worry about us. Ask Val to be your date, have fun for once!”

 

Betty watches Archie carefully. She knows what he’s thinking. It’s painted all over his face. But this is Veronica, and their best friend always _, always_ gets what she wants.

 

“Yeah,” he finally says, “yeah, I think I will.”

 

Betty feels like crying. But she smiles, and says, “Good for you, Arch!”

 

_See Betty fake it till she fucking makes it._

 

 

 

 

 

 

She walks home the next morning. Toni and Cheryl are still snoring away, curled up in each other’s arms on the pullout couch.

 

“How do they not see it?” Kevin asks. Betty doesn’t have a clue.

 

She wants to stay and hang out with her friends for a little while, but then Kevin brings up pancakes and bacon and her stomach says _no, thank you,_ so she lies and says she has errands to run for her mother and heads out the door. She’s secretly pleased that she’ll have to head home on foot; the exercise will clear her head and do her some good.

 

The warm feeling lingers, even after she’s rounded the corner, straight into the autumn chill. She really is so lucky, having friends like Kevin and Toni and Cheryl. She really is so lucky to have these people in her life, those who love her unconditionally. She’s lucky, so lucky, and she is so, so grateful. But there’s this part of her, this undeterminable thing, that sits hard and heavy over her heart. There’s this monstrous urge to self-destruct, this wanting of what’s bad for her. Yes, she has Kevin and Toni and Cheryl, but once upon a time, she also had Archie and Veronica. The weight threatens to swallow her whole.

 

Fingers in her palms, she desperately tries to hold on to the hope she’d had last night.

 

_One breath, two breaths, three…_

 

It was so much better. She was doing better. The tears come too fast to stop.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

But it’s drowned out by _why, why, why, why why why whywhywhy-_

 

She does it to herself. It’s her own damn fault she feels this way.

 

Because _she still misses them._ They were toxic, wrong for her, a list of other things that should make her glad that they’re gone, but if she really felt that way, she’d also be bogged down with guilt. Because they’d been happy, once. They’d been her world, once.

 

But really, if she’s being honest with herself, which is rare, these days, they weren’t her world. They just lived in it.

 

And one way or another, Betty is going to have to accept that.

 

The blood drips down, spattering the sidewalk, but Betty is numb to it.

 

She doesn’t feel it. Not the pain, not the panic.

 

She just feels numb.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s after Archie has made the confession that Betty’s conscience starts to gnaw at her. Because _dammit_ , Betty is a good person, ever the nice girl, and she shouldn’t keep up the lie. That’s how she finds herself fidgeting with her hands outside the auditorium, where the Pussycats are having Friday rehearsal, where Valerie Brown is smiling and singing, completely unaware that her boyfriend is an infidel.

 

Melody, who’s been looking more dejected as of late, bumps into Betty after she’s spent fifteen minutes psyching herself up for the impending conversation. “Oh, Betty, hi!”

 

And then Josie’s there, and she looks her up and down. “Betty Cooper, as I live and breathe. What brings you to our rehearsal?” In other words, Josie says _this is not where you belong, Betty._

 

But Betty can’t help it. She has to come clean.

 

And then, Valerie, ever the radiant beauty, enters the fray with grace. “What’s up, B?”

 

She can’t do this. She can’t meddle like this. What was she thinking? Who is she to tell Valerie who she should and shouldn’t date?

 

Except _Archie, the golden boy, Archie, her best friend, Archie, her hero, the boy on the pedestal, just out of reach, Archie-_

 

He’s in the wrong, this time. And Betty is not built to let it slide.

 

“Can we talk, Val?” She rushes to get her words out, to escape the scathing glare of Josie McCoy. Melody frowns slightly at her display of nerves. Betty feels exposed.

 

And Valerie picks up on her reticence to be here, and pauses a moment before saying, “Sure, B, let’s get out of here.”

 

They end up in the music room, Val’s gear laid out across every surface. Betty’s hands must be stained with her own blood by now. How is she going to do this?

 

She finds out when Valerie finally _looks_ at her, looks her in the eye, and everything just tumbles out at once. “Archie and Veronica are seeing each other behind your back!”

 

_Well, fuck. That didn’t go according to plan._

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty is making an effort to quietly dump her bowl of cereal down the garbage disposal when she hears a horn honk outside. She jumps, dropping the bowl in the sink. Thankfully, it’s plastic, and it clatters, but doesn’t shatter. Her mother peers through the curtains.

 

“Elizabeth, it looks like Reginald’s here. You’d better get going.”

 

Confused, she gathers her things and scurries out the door. And then, she feels a smile pulling at her lips. Because yes, it’s Reggie’s car out front, but Kevin’s lip-syncing to a song from “Heathers: The Musical” in the passenger seat, and Cheryl and Toni are leaning in to each other and giggling in the back. She walks towards them, and waves when Reggie catches her eye.

 

“Out, Keller! B.C. gets shotgun!” Reggie grins at her and playfully shoves Kevin. Kev rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and gives her a quick hug on his way out.

 

“Is there anything more iconic than a classic Betty Cooper look?” He says, climbing in beside the lovebirds. Betty flushes from the blatant flattery, and slides inside.

 

“Alright, gang, let’s go!” Reggie pumps his fist and turns up the volume on “Candy Store”, starting the second verse. “Guys fall at your feet, pay the check, help you cheat…”

 

Betty shakes her head, amused, and sings along. She only glances at Archie’s house for a second, and she almost thinks she sees him standing in the window, watching them. But then Reggie is driving away, and Betty forgets to care about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

So she hugs Val and holds her while she cries and the two of them lament on what it’s like to love Archie Andrews, because _of course_ _Val knows_. But she doesn’t judge and cares wholeheartedly anyway. Valerie Brown is an angel like that.

 

“You and me forever, B,” Val says. “We’re what’s left behind.”

 

She isn’t there when Valerie breaks up with Archie, or when she severs her ties with Veronica, but she hears through the grapevine that both are pretty messy. And then, when she’s meandering towards the Blue and Gold offices one day after school, she’s grabbed and pulled into an empty classroom.

 

“Haven’t you done enough? Are you fucking sorry?” Archie is livid as he rounds on her, clenching his fists. There is barely restrained anger in his eyes. For the first time in eleven years of friendship, Betty is actually a little afraid of the dopey boy next door.

 

 _One breath, two breaths, three…_ She brings up her hands in what she hopes to God is a placating, diplomatic gesture. “Am I sorry? Why would I be sorry?”

 

“How could you tell Valerie about me and Veronica?” And _oh_ , right, she’d done that. She’d made that move. Archie is actually _mad_ at her, but Betty doesn’t care because she knows that what she did was justified.

 

And so she goes, “Maybe because she deserved to know her boyfriend was cheating on her with another girl!” She gets up in his face, just as furious as him. Because she had _loved_ him, dammit. But the boy who could do _that_ without faltering, without further thought? That boy wasn’t the one she’d loved. And it fucking _hurt_.

 

His hands go up in the air, his head comes down to look at her, to match her wild and angry gaze with his own. “That wasn’t your decision to make!”

 

“I wasn’t going to let you lie to her!” And really, she never would have, because she is too much of a moral compass for that. The world can mock her all it wants, but Betty stands firm on her honesty. Archie _knows_ that, knows that better than anyone.

 

Maybe that’s why her heart stops when he says, “ _God_ , you’re the worst.”

 

She can’t breathe. _She can’t fucking breathe._ Nothing helps, not _one breath, two breaths, three_ , not anything. Her chest constricts, her eyes well up, and all the rage she’d been ready to release dissolves. This is _Archie, the golden boy, Archie, her best friend, Archie, her hero, the boy on the pedestal, just out of reach, Archie,_ and right now, she is the _last_ person he could ever love. Her world feels like it’s on the verge of collapse. What now?

 

“… Maybe I should go.” It seems like the proper response. He just needs air, right?

 

Right. _I can hope._

 

“Maybe you should.” He’s not even looking at her anymore. _What have I done what have I done what have I done-_

 

“I’ll see you around, Arch.” She almost chokes on the words, because she doesn’t know how to fix this and she’s scrambling for a solution, _any_ solution.

 

“Goodbye, Betty.” He says sternly. _You fucked up, and there’s no fixing it this time._

 

_All your fault all your fault all your fault-_

 

“… Goodbye.” He doesn’t look at her once, not even as she walks away, out the door, back straight, smile on, _out of his life_ -

 

 _Click_. The door shuts behind her, and the tears begin to fall.

 

_This is not where you belong, Betty._

 

_Not anymore._

 

 

 

 

 

 

They get to school and go their separate ways. In between classes, Reggie twirls her around, and she can’t stop laughing. This is one of her good mornings, one of her best in a while.

 

“C’mon, Betts, sing it out loud!” Reggie is egging her on, she knows that, and she knows she shouldn’t give in, but…

 

She does.

 

“And there’s your final bell! It’s one more dance and then farewell! Cheek to cheek in hell with a dead girl walking!” She belts, closing her eyes and throwing her arms out. She’s enjoying herself, lost in the song. Reggie is, too. So lost, in fact, that they forget to turn left. So lost that they keep spinning around the hallway, not a care in the world. So lost that she bumps into a hard chest, and turns around to apologize, and…

 

She’s so lost, because she is face to face with Archie Andrews and Veronica Lodge for the first time in two months, and she has no fucking idea what to do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The month the Three Musketeers spend apart during freshman year is easily the worst month of Betty’s life. At least, at the time.

 

Because, as Betty quickly learns, while she is careful to keep her opinions close to her chest, careful not to badmouth her best friends, the two of them do not express the same concerns about her reputation. That’s how Betty finds herself the new topic of hallway gossip.

 

“Did you hear Betty Cooper broke up Valerie and Archie?”

 

“I can’t believe Veronica and Archie put up with Betty for as long as they did.”

 

“If I were them, I would’ve cut Cooper loose a long time ago.”

 

“Betty Cooper’s such a stuck-up bitch, thinking she’s so much better than everyone else.”

 

“God, who even likes Betty?”

 

“Betty Cooper’s such a snitch.”

 

“Maybe if Cooper wasn’t such a prude, more people would tolerate her.”

 

There’s more, so much more, but she puts in earbuds to drown the whispers out before she catches it.

 

She sees them, sometimes, eating lunch and cuddling up together. The sight makes her sick.

 

What makes it worse is they don’t even seem to miss her.

 

_This is not where you belong, Betty._

 

She doesn’t know where else to go, so she hides out in the Blue and Gold offices and wishes she could go back.

 

_We can’t go back, can we?_

 

But she can hope. Right now, that’s all she has.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Words. Usually she has so many waiting to be said, sitting on the tip of her tongue. But in such close proximity to her ex-best friends, she can’t find any.

 

“Betty,” Veronica finally says. “Hi.” Archie just stares at her, like she’s a long-forgotten ghost.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

She waits a beat too long to give her own unsure response. “…Veronica. Archie. Hello.”

 

Reggie had wrapped an arm around her waist, at some point. Betty wishes he hadn’t. It’s the only thing keeping her here.

 

The world stands still. Betty doesn’t blink. Neither does Veronica. Neither does Archie.

 

_This is not where you belong, Betty._

 

He palms are slick with blood, and her pulse speeds up to a rapid, fearful pace. She can vaguely hear Reggie saying something. What it is, she couldn’t possibly tell you, because it only takes a few seconds for her to wrench herself out of Reggie’s grip and take off towards the journalism room. She doesn’t care if it makes her a coward.

 

She knows what she can handle. Singing with Reggie, she can do. What she can’t do is see _them._

 

She’s just not ready. Not yet.

 

Maybe, she’ll never be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She doesn’t have a choice.

 

Because she is alone and afraid and her hands aren’t healing fast enough for her to sink her nails deeply into the flesh of her palms. Because her head hurts and she doesn’t eat enough to go on the long extended runs she enjoys so much and it’s taking a toll on her mental state. Because she is _alone_ and _afraid_ and her heart can’t heal fast enough to make new friends, to stop her spiral, to keep her together and away from the point of no return.

 

This game Archie and Veronica play so well is one Betty never learned the rules to. She can chase them all she wants but she’ll always be one step behind. She wants to cry.

 

But she doesn’t. Betty is a nice girl, a good girl, a Cooper girl, the _stuck-up bitch the prude the life-ruiner the snitch the useless annoying know-it-all the fat attention whore who even likes her anyway-_

 

She apologizes. After some consideration, she’s forgiven.

 

Betty straightens. Betty smiles.

 

_See Betty fake it till she fucking makes it._

 

 

 

 

 

 

When she makes it to her destination, her head hurts and her hands hurt and her heart aches with the weight of what’s been said and she’s tired, _so very tired_ , and she doesn’t really check her surroundings before she staggers to an empty desk and collapses atop it.

 

“Rough day?”

 

“Rough year,” she affirms, not batting an eye.

 

“That sucks.” She hears shuffling, and all of a sudden something drops over her shoulders. In her peripheral, she catches denim.

 

“Did you just give me your jacket?”

 

“Do you want me to take it back?” He fires at her.

 

She makes a small noise of content. “I’m good.”

 

She doesn’t move for the rest of the period. Jughead doesn’t comment on it. She appreciates it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Betty?”

 

“B.C., you there?”

 

“B, are you okay?”

 

“Betts, where are you?”

 

“A response would be appreciated, cousin dearest.”

 

She groans, dropping her head to the table again with a loud _thunk_. She can feel Jughead’s eyes on her as he asks, “You gonna get that?”

 

“Must I?”

 

They’d given her a period to gather herself, but now they’re all at lunch and there’s nothing stopping them from flooding her with concern which, _yes,_ she appreciates, but right now, all she wants is an escape from the hauntings of her past.

 

They all shuffle into the room at once. Betty doesn’t feel like turning around to look at them, but Jughead takes it upon himself to spin her chair around anyway.

 

Ethel and Reggie and Toni and Kevin and Cheryl have come to find her, lunch trays piled high with food. Betty feels her stomach recoil.

 

“Guys, I’m okay. Go eat lunch in the cafeteria, I’ll be along soon,” she says. The others don’t respond. Instead, they find seats at the desks not yet occupied and start talking amongst themselves, like she hasn’t said anything at all. She meets Jughead’s eyes, but he just shrugs and steals a few of Toni’s fries.

 

And then it hits her. Without even speaking, they’ve chosen a side. They’ve chosen _her_.

 

She’s lucky, so so lucky. She has friends who love her, care about her, back her up. But still…

 

There’s something missing.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

She laughs. She smiles. She engages in conversation. Her fists never unclench and she never does get around to eating lunch. The others, so focused on making sure she feels loved, don’t notice. She’s thankful.

 

But Jughead watches her all period. His brow furrows, and the scrutiny makes her skin crawl. Has he noticed?

 

She hopes he hasn’t. _I can hope._

 

 

 

 

 

 

( _He has._ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this is a long one! There was so much I wanted to say in this chapter. For all of the Jughead fans in the audience, I'm sorry he's been such an outsider for so long. There's a lot of character growth that both sides need to go through before they can be in a stable relationship in this story, and I'm trying to portray that to the best of my abilities. This chapter marks the end of him playing such a small part in the story, and you'll see him A LOT more next chapter. 
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you for the positive feedback and the support <3 You guys make me want to update as quickly as I can so that I can share what comes next with you! 
> 
> Also, if you like this story and you like audiobooks, HufflepuffBetty's rendition of this tale is absolutely beautiful and more than worth the listen. It's so amazingly wonderful and I love it to pieces! Go check it out!
> 
> Until next time, my loves! <3


	7. all that you rely on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty is used to their rivalry. But Jughead is different now. 
> 
> Everything is different now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "In My Veins" by Andrew Belle.

When Thursday rolls around, Betty doesn’t think much of it. Her head hurts and her bones creak and she feels _heavy_ , so heavy it makes her head spin. She shrugs on an old gray sweater, stumbles down the staircase, and throws open the door, fully expecting the usual gang.

 

Instead, Jughead’s bike is parked out front, and Jughead himself is staring her right in the face, fist raised like he was moments away from knocking.

 

He says, “Betty,” like her name means something beautiful.

 

She says, “What the hell?” like she does not quite believe it yet.

 

Because she had somehow forgotten her mother’s reminder, “Elizabeth, make sure you straighten up around here, I’ve invited FP and Jughead over for dinner on Thursday night.” She assumes she was _sinking, drowning, dying_ in _self-doubt, self-pity, self-loathing._ In short, she had wiped the conversation from her mind and was therefore almost incapable of processing the beanie-wearing boy’s presence on her front porch.

 

Jughead blinks once, twice. “Um.”

 

Now she’s the one searching for words, the tension caused by her and her alone. “Sorry, that was… Come in, it’s cold out.”

 

He shrugs. “I don’t mind.” He comes inside anyway.

 

She storms into the kitchen, searching for a task, something to focus on other than the elephant in the room. “Coffee?”

 

He considers it for a few seconds. “Sure.”

 

While she pours him a cup, she inspects him out of the corner of her eye. He’s bundled up against the cold, and burrowed into his coat, he looks more like the boy she remembers from her childhood than the antagonist she knows today.

 

Except, _no Betty, he’s different now. Everything is different now._

 

She’s so busy with her one-sided staring contest that the coffee mug slips from her grasp and shatters on the floor with a loud _crash_. The impact makes her jump.

 

“Shit!” She curses her clumsiness, the shakiness of her hands and her own mind for getting so damn distracted.

 

Jughead clucks his tongue at her. “Be more careful, Cooper.”

 

And then her shoulders slump. _Cooper._ She doesn’t even look at him as she grabs the broom and a roll of paper towels, muttering a toneless, “Fuck you, Jones,” under her breath.

 

But her hands are even more unsteady than before, and her eyes prickle and she feels like screaming because _Jesus Christ, she’s such a fucking catastrophe how could anyone care about her what a mess what a disaster no wonder everyone she loves leaves her to rot and die alone-_

 

She’s pulled up by a strong grip, and the cleaning supplies are plucked from her grasp. “I’ll get it, Betty.” She watches him bend down to tidy her mess. Her head swims in confusion. When he’s done, when the pieces of the mug are swept up and in the trash, when the pieces of her heart are concealed once more, he tilts his head towards the door. “Better get going.”

 

She could argue. She could, if she wanted. But that’s one more thing to fight off, and if the hunger or the exhaustion or the loneliness gets to her, Betty doesn’t think she’ll make it out alive.

 

She follows Jughead outside, a few steps behind. She’s always just a couple steps behind.

 

_He’s different now, Betty._

 

_Everything’s different now._

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Betty is in middle school, she grows faster than the other girls and boys, and she’s just a smidge taller than everybody else. It doesn’t help that she’s stick figure thin and looks like a lanky, gangly scarecrow. She’s awkward, not coordinated, and when basketball season comes around, she’s sprawled across the gym floor more often than not. Her coach shakes her head in disappointment. Betty wants to cry.

 

After another disastrous practice (“You can do better than that, Cooper. So do better.”), she sits on the front steps of the school with her head in her hands. Her knees are bruised beyond belief and she feels like nothing.

 

“Look, it’s Crybaby Cooper!” Scratch that. Betty feels like _less_ than nothing.

 

Sweet Pea’s fast approaching with Jughead and Fangs not far behind. They’ve been mocking her for years, but everything got so much worse after she hit her growth spurt. Now she _looks_ as awkward as she _feels_ , and the three of them have made it their mission to poke and prod at her until she falls apart.

 

“Guys, look, guess who I am!” Fangs flails his arms in the air, pretending to stumble around like Betty knows she was doing on the court earlier. She sniffles.

 

“Aw, is Itty Bitty Cooper gonna _cry_?” Sweet Pea grins wickedly. She averts her gaze, staring at a crack in the sidewalk, wishing it would widen and swallow her whole.

 

“HEY!” Toni Topaz, at her petite stature of 5’ 0”, looks like the scariest thing known to man. Betty cowers, hoping, _praying_ that the clouds of anger rolling in aren’t for her. “LEAVE HER ALONE, DUMMIES!”

 

They aren’t for her. They’re for Toni’s best friends, “her boys”, as she’s referred to them in the past. Toni is the coolest girl in 6th grade. Her hair is pink, and she wears a leather jacket, and she is tough and strong and scary, and _everyone_ is in awe of her. “Her boys” are no exception.

 

“But Toni!” Sweet Pea starts, clearly less enthused about their current course of action, clearly afraid of the consequences of continuing, but still too stubborn to stop.

 

“Sweets, you’re gonna let Betty go on her merry way, or I’m gonna tell FP you’re the one who let Hot Dog out last week when he brought home the dead skunk.” And by the way Sweet Pea goes white, Betty knows she’ll be getting out of this unscathed, thanks to Toni.

 

“No fair, Toni!” He complains loudly, and Fangs joins in on the jeering of their unspoken leader. Jughead remains silent. Toni, however, is steadfast in her protective stance. Betty mentally fist-bumps her. The boys start to leave, probably to find their next victim.

 

“Hold up just one minute,” Toni says. Betty jerks up to see Toni’s arms crossed over her chest, like she’s going to give them hell. “I think you owe Betty here an apology.”

 

“What?” Fangs and Sweet Pea look horrified at the concept. Jughead looks like he’s in a similar state of discomfort.

 

“You heard me,” but at this point, Betty’s had enough.

 

“No.” Fangs, Sweet Pea, Jughead, and Toni all snap towards her. She bites her lip. “I don’t want their apologies. They can go.”

 

Toni looks like she wants to argue the point, but she meets Betty’s eyes and it’s like she just _gets_ it. “Yeah, okay. You heard the girl. Let’s go.”

 

Toni grabs both Sweet Pea and Fangs by their ears, and the two get dragged away, howling all the while. Jughead shuffles. Betty doesn’t have the patience for it. “Well?”

 

Blue eyes meet blue eyes. He quickly looks down again. “M’sorry.”

 

“What?” But he doesn’t hear her. He’s already gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty tries to duck away from him when they get to the school, but it’s like Jughead has glued himself to her side. No matter what she does to try and shake him, no matter how she weaves in and out of the crowds, he always ends up right back by her side.

 

Reggie notices her new stalker right off the bat. “‘Sup, Suicide Squad?” Jughead bristles, but doesn’t respond. “Alright then.” They remember to turn this time. Reggie makes sure of it. Betty relaxes once they’re out of the line of fire. Jughead’s still following them closely.

 

They make it to Betty’s class safe and sound. Reggie jets off after they’ve arrived. “See you next period, B.C.!”

 

Jughead lingers. Betty feels her curiosity meld into frustration. “Why are you still here?” She growls. He scrunches up his face, then, in the way that makes her feel like he knows everything she’s trying to hide. “Reggie has class in the other wing.”

 

“So?” She feels defensive. Why does she feel so defensive? She’s done nothing to warrant it.

 

“But he walks with you everyday.” Suddenly, she knows where this is going. She doesn’t like where this is going. “Why?”

 

“Why is it any of your business, Jones?” She fires back. He wilts, briefly. Internally, Betty berates herself. The remark was harsher than she’d intended. But then he bounces back, and something about the look in his eyes makes her feel exposed.

 

“You’re an enigma, Cooper,” he says, and then he’s bounding down the hall. She realizes that he has class with Reggie this period.

 

She knows, deep down, that this is far from over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is near the end of fourth grade, and Jughead shoves Betty one day after school, and she falls to the ground, scraping up her hands and knees in the process. “Watch where you’re going, Cooper!” He yells at her. She feels tears well up, and she does everything she can to hold them back.

 

“Hey!” Archie and Veronica, her brave and loyal protectors, come swooping in to save the day. “Apologize to Betty, you jerk!”

 

Jughead is a ticking time bomb right now. Betty can tell. It’s written across his face. She knows somewhere, deep down, he is not mad at her, not mad because of her, but is taking it out on her because he knows she won’t fight back. Knows that usually she can keep Archie from throwing a tantrum.

 

He’s forgotten to account for Veronica, though, and her sudden fierceness of affection for Betty. Dumbly, he says, “Who, me?” Betty kind of wants to let it slide, but now Archie is all riled up, and-

 

_Crack!_ She hears the impact before she sees it, before she sees Jughead drop, before she sees a teacher haul Archie away. Veronica screams. Betty does cry then.

 

And the four of them get swept up in administration and onlookers and Veronica insists on pleading little Archie’s case to the principal, and before she knows it, she and Jughead are sitting side by side outside the office. He’s got an ice pack on his nose, and he won’t even look at her.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jughead says, and before Betty can respond, her two best friends emerge with sunken spirits.

 

(In the end, it’s Betty who talks down the adults in a scene reminiscent of her first meeting with Archie. Archie and Jughead both serve a week of detention for causing a scene, and Archie helps Betty at the animal shelter for the next month. Jughead leaves her alone for a few weeks after that as a gesture of goodwill.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

She’s not sure what she was expecting. Jughead refuses to let her have a moment to herself all day, joining her and Reggie in between classes, sitting with the usual suspects at lunch, making sure he’s right there in the journalism room so it’s impossible to get her space. He even insists on taking her home after school. Betty’s ready to blow.

 

But she can’t, because once they’re inside the Cooper residence, FP is there.

 

“Hey kids!” The older Jones grins, getting up from where he’s sat beside Alice on the couch. Betty runs at him, throwing her arms around the man who has always felt more like family than her actual father, six feet under and not missed one bit. “Betty, good to see you as always. How’re you, sweetheart?”

 

“I’m good, Mr. Jones.” She wishes she could believe her own lie.

 

FP, however, doesn’t question it. “What have I told you, Betty? It’s FP to you.” Jughead gets a wicked smirk on his face and opens his mouth. FP says, “It’s Mr. Jones to you, Jug.” Jughead squawks, indignant.

 

“Betty dear, would you mind pulling the pie out of the oven?” Alice asks from where she’s still perched on the sofa. She nods, moving towards the kitchen. Jughead follows her.

 

“Do you mind?” She nudges him out of the way so she can grab the apple pie and set it out to cool on the counter. Jughead studies her. “What?” She glares at him.

 

“I can’t quite figure you out yet,” he says, “but I’m working on it.” And then he returns to the living room.

 

The Coopers and the Joneses spend time catching up. Alice talks about the Register. FP offers to host dinner at their trailer next week. Jughead asks Alice if she’ll come talk to the Blue and Gold staff as a guest speaker. Betty straightens, smiles, and clenches her fists as hard as she can so she doesn’t come undone.

 

_See Betty fake it till she fucking makes it._

 

And then the conversation continues into dinner, where Betty is worrying her lip as she tries to figure out how to get through the night without actually putting anything in her mouth, where Jughead’s true intentions finally come to light.

 

“So Betty, I heard you aren’t talking to Archie and Veronica anymore.” _Shit._

 

Her mother’s attention is solely focused on her now. “Elizabeth, is this true?”

 

_One breath, two breaths, three…_ “Why do you care?” She hisses. Jughead shoots her a lazy grin. He’s got her trapped.

 

“Call me curious.” Well, call them all curious, now. Betty feels cornered. Her breathing becomes unsteady.

 

“We had… a bit of a falling out.” She stands abruptly, jostling the table. Before her mother can chastise her, she forces a tiny, tightlipped smile, and goes, “Excuse me, I’m not feeling so well.”

 

She’s halfway out of the dining room when she hears, “I’ll go keep her company!”

 

They make it up the stairs before she’s whirling around, finger harshly poking his chest as she whisper-yells, “Why do you keeping doing this?”

 

“Doing what, exactly?” _The fucking head tilt_. She hates it, she hates it, she hates it. She wants to hit him with something hard, but all she has right now are her words. She tries to make them hurt.

 

“Prying your way into my life, into things that are none of your business!” She pushes him, not hard enough to send him toppling over, but enough to knock him slightly off balance.

 

It doesn’t stop him from saying, “Because I don’t get you. You are the perfect girl next door. You have people who care about you! Who cares if they don’t?”

 

“I care!” She throws her hands up. She can’t get through to this boy the simplest part of all of this. _It’s different, now. Everything is different now._

 

“Why, Betty? Why can’t you just get over it?” And then, everything comes screeching to a halt.

 

He doesn’t know her. He has no right. _No right_.

 

“Fuck you, Jughead Jones.” This time, it feels like she means it. She stomps away to her bedroom, and slams the door shut behind her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The last day of school has always been kind of a bittersweet moment for Betty, but right now, at the very end of her sophomore year, it’s just bitter. Veronica is throwing an end of the year party at the Pembrooke, and the only person in their year not invited is Betty. Parts of her want to cry. Other parts of her just don’t care that much.

 

She sits on the steps outside, waiting for… well, she doesn’t really know who she’s waiting for, really. Archie and Veronica and most of the student body have all left. Riverdale High is deserted. Maybe that’s why she’s still here. She and the school have something in common.

 

“You’re still here?” She looks up to see Jughead Jones, eyebrow arched like she’s the strangest thing he’s seen all day.

 

“Yeah,” she mumbles, glum.

 

He offers her a hand up. She takes it. “C’mon. I’ll walk you home.”

 

He’s sensed the lingering sadness, the anguish and the pain and the conflict raging inside her mind. Today, he’s called a truce. It takes everything she has, but she smiles at him. They walk home in shared silence, and he waves to her when they get to Elm Street and she scurries up to the front porch.

 

They don’t say anything else. They don’t need to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She crawls out onto the roof to clear her head. Archie’s curtains are closed. They’re always closed. Her breath comes out in puffs of steam, and she watches the stars above. She doesn’t escape for more than five minutes before she hears the window open and feels a looming presence beside her. “I’m sorry.”

 

She shakes her head, incredulous. “You’re always apologizing to me. Have you ever noticed that?”

 

Jughead doesn’t respond, at first. Then, “Yeah.”

 

She shakes her head again. This boy drives her up the wall. But… “I’m sorry, too.” At that, he freezes, then faces her, questioning. “You’re right, I’m not over it.” She laughs. It’s hollow. It echoes in the night air. “Who knows if I’ll ever be over it? I just…”

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

“I want to feel _something_ ,” she continues, after giving herself just a minute to think, “and I keep lashing out at you, which isn’t fair, but that’s, it’s… _normal_ , you know? Everything is different now, everyone is different. I thought maybe this would be my constant. But you’re different now, too.” It’s the most honest she’s been in a while. It makes her heart lighter, somehow.

 

Jughead asks, “Is that such a bad thing?” like her next words could change everything.

 

Betty answers, “I don’t know anymore,” like she can delay the inevitable. They’re quiet, after that. The world is quiet, too. Something has definitely changed. But it doesn’t feel like an ending.

 

It feels new.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The morning they bury her father is the first one Betty can remember. It is cold and gray, and she curls in on herself to keep warm.

 

“Sorry,” says someone behind her. She turns and sees a boy her age in a too-big suit, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Daddy said I had to say that.”

 

Betty nods. “Thank you,” she recites from her mother’s insistence to _always be polite, Elizabeth_. She shivers as a gust of wind ruffles the skirt of her black dress, as it makes the hair on her arms stand up. She feels a sudden weight on her shoulders, enveloped in warmth. She turns back to the boy, now missing his jacket.

 

“You’re cold,” he shrugs, face red and blushing. She smiles at him.

 

“My name is Betty,” she says with straight shoulders and a hand out to shake, mimicking her mother’s professional aura.

 

He takes it with a bashful grin. “My name is Jughead.”

 

She wrinkles her nose a little at that. It’s a weird name. But she’s made a friend, her first friend, and that’s what really matters.

 

(No one else sees it, or if they do, they don’t mention it, but Betty grabs Jughead’s hand again as the ceremony starts and doesn’t let go until it’s over.

 

He holds on to her just as tight.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jughead's here! Yay! Betty's not so welcoming, though...
> 
> I am gonna give you guys a quick heads up that while Betty's developing eating disorder has been kind of a subtle running theme, it's going to get more prominent next chapter. If you think it may be too much, skip it. I'll do a recap of the chapter in the notes. Please be aware of what may make you uncomfortable during this story, lovelies.
> 
> As always, thank you for the positive feedback and the support. You guys make me want to update as quickly as I can so that I can share what comes next with you! And believe me, there is much to come... ;)
> 
> I also want to announce a shorter fic coming this Halloween called 'Welcome to Murderville'! It will be ten chapters long, with the first chapter being released on Halloween night. It's another Bughead fic with more horror elements. Very excited to share it with you guys!
> 
> If you like this story and you like audiobooks, HufflepuffBetty's podfic is my favorite thing on this Earth and you should check it out immediately. I'm serious, go give it a listen!
> 
> Until next time, my loves! <3


	8. skin and bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty's friends come first, and her problems come later.
> 
> But if they come too much later, there may not be a Betty anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *GRAPHIC CHAPTER*
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "Lovely" by Billie Eilish.
> 
> SUMMARY:  
> (because this chapter gets a bit graphic, i've included this for readers who may not want to read)
> 
> Betty passes out a few times because she's been starving herself. She and Jughead get into an argument because she refuses to take care of herself properly. She passes out again, and when she wakes up, she storms off. We learn Betty was diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and ADD, and that she still struggles with some grief over her father's death. Archie and Veronica were oblivious to these struggles. Betty goes to Pop's with Cheryl, Jughead, and Toni, where they discuss pining couples. Archie and Veronica enter, and Betty runs to the restroom to throw up. Cheryl confronts her about what she's doing, and Betty asserts it's a form of control and she can moderate it. Cheryl, who has had her own struggles in the past and would rather Betty seek help, reluctantly agrees to help Betty hide it. Veronica calls Betty a monster on her way out. Jughead and Archie get into a fight over B and V's honor, and Betty passes out again from all of the chaos.

The first time Betty passes out, she doesn’t pay it much attention. The sad thing is, she just doesn’t have the time for it. Between the Blue and Gold, Vixen practice, volunteering, helping out her mom in the office, her classes, and now, homecoming committee, she’s running herself ragged trying to keep up. So when she gets home one day and her vision hedges on black and her head spins and she’s falling, falling… well, it must be out of sheer exhaustion. She wakes up the next morning and gets ready for school as usual. No big deal. The gang and Jughead give her weird stares all day, but Betty assumes it’s just because she’s more out of it than usual. She’ll be back to normal when things ease up.

 

Except, then it happens again. This time, she recognizes that she’s about to topple over before she actually does. Cheryl runs them hard Thursday after school, in prep for the game on Friday. Betty gets changed into some comfy clothes in the locker room, and all of the sudden she has to sit down because everything sounds distant and looks fuzzy and-

 

It’s half an hour later when Toni and Jughead find her and help her off the bench, with Cheryl buzzing about how Betty needs to actually rest before tomorrow night because _you had better not ruin our routine with any sloppiness, Betty._ It comes from a place of love, which Betty knows. But it forces her to look a little closer at what an utter mess she’s becoming.

 

She stops going on morning runs after that, in an effort conserve her energy. Betty figures the blackouts should stop now, but they don’t.

 

And the next one is the worst one of all, because somebody _notices_ it. Not just anyone, either.

 

“You can write that exposé on the dress code, right? Because otherwise we’ll have to delegate it to Toni, and Toni’s too passive aggressive when she writes about administration. We’ll get put on probation and then it’ll throw off our press schedule and… I-” She sits, suddenly, on top of her desk, breathing hard.

 

Jughead rushes towards her, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder. “Betty?”

 

“I- I’m fine,” she waves him off, irritated with herself, a blinding headache forming between her eyes. “Just dizzy.”

 

“Here,” he says, opening his bag and producing a bottle of water. “Drink.”

 

She accepts it gratefully. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened.”

 

“I do,” he growls. She meets his eyes, which are filled with brewing anger, but it dissipates in an instant, softening and fading to concern. “Betty, you’re exhausted. You’ve got too much on your plate.”

She gnaws at her lip. “No, no, I’m _fine_ , I just… I’m just dehydrated, it’s a one time thing. I’m okay, I can handle it-”

 

“No, you can’t.”

 

“What do you mean I _can’t_?” Fury wells up in her chest, fists clenching at her sides. _Hell hath no fury like a Cooper girl scorned._ “It’s my life, Jughead, I can do what I want with it.”

 

He throws his arms up harshly. “Fine, you can run yourself into the ground outside of this room, but I’m not allowing it here. You’re suspended from this press cycle. I’ll have Kevin cover your stories.”

 

And she cannot _contain_ how upset she is after he says that. Everything else fades out because she is _so angry_ , and she stands and screams, “What the _hell_ , Jughead?” But then she stumbles, and her head hits the ground, and that’s really all she can process before she’s out like a light.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty is thirteen when she is diagnosed with depression, mild anxiety, and ADD. There are no words to describe what she feels, and honestly she’s not too sure _how_ to feel.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

Nothing is okay when she returns the day following her diagnosis. Betty hasn’t felt right in so long, and somehow having a tangible reason for her discomfort only heightens it. She can’t excuse it anymore, can’t blame it on too much coffee or too little sleep. She and Archie walk to school in silence, and Betty can’t quite decide if she’s grateful for the time to think or itching for a distraction. In any case, Archie is being uncharacteristically quiet and the pit in Betty’s stomach only grows.

 

_At school_ , she decides, _with_ _Veronica_. She’ll tell them then, and they’ll alleviate her growing panic and reassure her that she is still _their Betty_ , and nothing will change that, not ever.

 

Except, as it turns out, Betty’s not the only one with a lot on her mind. They see Veronica waiting for them on the front steps, and watch as her face falls and she breaks out into a run. For a moment, Betty’s heart leaps and she praises whatever deity blessed her with an almost psychic connection with one Veronica Lodge.

 

But Veronica brushes right past her, tackling Archie in a bear hug, smothering his immediate sobs. Betty’s stomach drops. _Oh, no._

 

Later, Archie will explain that his parents have been fighting again, and that his mother has packed her things and gone to stay at the Five Seasons. Later, Mary will move to Chicago for a while. Later, “a while” will turn into “for good”. Later, Betty will become so concerned with consoling Archie that her own issues will be shifted to the back burner and eventually forgotten.

 

But right now, Betty and Veronica have their arms thrown around Archie, and right now, they promise to be there whenever he needs them. Right now, Betty makes a mental note in the back of her brain. _Someday_ , she tells herself. She’ll tell them someday, when the time is right.

 

(But then it’s summer, and Archie is on a cross-country road trip with his dad, and Veronica is gala-hopping in Europe with her mother, and Betty is at a writing camp, keeping busy. And then eighth grade starts, and then it’s the holiday season, and then Veronica and Betty both like-like Archie, and then Valerie and Archie start dating, and then…

 

Suffice to say, someday never comes.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

She wakes up right where she was when it all cut to black, still in the journalism room, still face to face with Jughead Jones and his unwelcome pity. Her head throbs. Her vision pulses.

 

She stands, brushing herself off. “How long was I out?”

 

He crosses his arms. “Not long. I’m more concerned as to _why_ you were out in the first place.”

 

“That’s none of your concern,” she sniffs.

 

“None of my…” He trails off, huffing a cynical laugh. “You are unbelievable, Cooper.”

 

“I need to go.” She grabs her bag, guts twisting with fear and anxiety and sheer frustration. Jughead, however, blocks her path. “Out of the way, Jones,” she hisses.

 

“We have that group hangout at Pop’s today. I’m your ride, remember?” He quirks a brow at her, daring her to fight him on this. It seems like he’s daring her to do a lot more. Daring her to admit that she doesn’t know what she’s doing, that she’s not really fine, that she’s begging for somebody, _anybody_ to notice that she’s already halfway gone…

 

“I’ll walk.” She pushes past him, and then pauses. “Besides, it’ll give me time to think about my article this cycle.” She turns back to look at him, just as he’s about to open his mouth, and she says, “Goodbye, Jughead.” She’s out the door before he can object.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty is fourteen, and ten years ago today, her father died. Because she can’t even begin to imagine how she’ll go about pretending everything is normal, she stays home. Polly does, too. Alice goes to work, still. This day has never bothered her like it bothers her daughters.

 

“Betty?” Polly calls. “I made pancakes.”

 

And Betty bolts downstairs, straight into her sister’s arms. Polly embraces her with fierce Cooper girl affection. “Love you, Pol,” Betty sniffles.

 

“Love you more, Bettybear.” Polly squeezes her tighter, only letting go so she can fix her a plate for breakfast.

 

Later, they’ll watch musicals and do each other’s nails. Later, they’ll go for a run down by the river, only returning home because of the coming darkness. Later, Alice will tuck Betty in, and remind her how she is so, so loved. Later, Betty will tiptoe over to Polly’s room, and they’ll curl up together and talk about what they remember about their father until they fall asleep.

 

And later, Betty will return to school, expecting questions from her BFFs, fully ready to answer them with the truth. But Archie is busy preparing for football next year and Veronica is busy mooning over Archie and if either of them noticed she was even gone, they don’t mention it.

 

That comes later, though. For now, Betty and Polly eat breakfast and smile at each other in Cooper girl solidarity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

So Betty arrives at Pop’s about ten minutes late, just in time to bump into Reggie, who’s rushing out the door with a large paper bag in hand. “Pussycats have rehearsal today,” he grins lopsidedly. “Josie wants her cheese fries.” The boyish puppy love painted across his face warms her heart. She embraces him quickly and lets him get on his way to the studio.

 

Kev has, apparently, already left, citing variety show business. Betty and Toni and Cheryl know that it’s all in a half-assed attempt to hide his rather obvious relationship with Moose. Betty’s still bitter that they didn’t wait a year to consummate their relationship. She had had fifty bucks riding on it!

 

Because Ethel had already told them she’d be absent due to a study date with Dilton at the library, Betty finds herself sliding in next to Toni in a booth made for four people. Jughead looks up momentarily, and she pointedly avoids acknowledging him. Cheryl slides her a vanilla milkshake. She gulps, and gives her cousin what she hopes is a grateful smile. Judging by how Cheryl preens, it’s effective.

 

“So, B,” Toni nudges her, “opinions on the Keller and Mason affair?” Betty softly laughs.

 

“All I’m going to say is it was about damn time. And that I’ll cough up my money next week.”

 

“That’s all quite wonderful, ladies, but there are other pining pairs that need to have their moment of romantic revelation. Tina and Ginger, for example,” Cheryl gestures to the two girls, cozied up together at the counter. Ginger is tucked into Tina’s side, arms around her waist. Toni’s jaw drops.

 

“They’re _still_ not together? Even with… that?” She gestures. Betty rolls her eyes.

 

“If you think that’s bad, you should see Val and Mel. I’m this close to locking them in a closet and forcing them to figure it out themselves.”

 

“What about Sweet Pea and Fangs?” Jughead pipes up. Betty looks down at her lap and chews her lip.

 

“He’s got a point, those two morons are clueless,” Toni huffs. Cheryl makes an affirmative noise, and she and Jughead make eye contact, finally, if only because the situation at hand is so ironic. She quickly averts her gaze and hurriedly chokes down some of her milkshake, just to give herself something to do. And then, she comes to a decision.

 

Betty says, “Jughead, I wanted to talk to you about-”

 

Except, she doesn’t get further than that, because the bell rings, and the four friends in the booth turn and face Archie and Veronica, the only two people in the world who can change Betty’s mood faster than Jughead.

 

“B-b-bathroom!” She stumbles over the word, and then she’s out of the booth and running.

 

Because Betty is a lot of things, but right now, brave is not one of them. Maybe someday. For now…

 

_See Betty run._

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty is fifteen and a fire burns down Thornhill, killing Jason and sending Cheryl into a downward spiral. Though the rest of the Blossoms stay with some distant, wealthy Blossom relatives in another area, the young heiress still has school, and therefore stays with the Coopers. It’s two months into cohabitation, and Cheryl cries a lot less now. Though she still needs to be shaken awake from night terrors, it’s getting so much better for her. That’s why Betty doesn’t even think she means the first dig.

 

“You’re a fat pig, Betty,” the redhead sneers, though there really is no bite to it. “Everybody would be so much happier if you’d just go away.” They don’t speak for a week afterwards, which is quite a feat when you’re living in the same house, but they manage it. When they finally reconcile, it’s without words, more of a quiet acceptance of the other’s presence. That’s when the second remark hits Betty, and _hard_.

 

“God, I look so fat today. I think I gained three pounds just from Auntie’s pancakes alone.” It’s clear Cheryl isn’t talking to her, but the way she’s dissecting her flaws in the full-length mirror makes Betty uncomfortable. Cheryl hadn’t had too many pancakes, and she really didn’t look bad at all. Plus, Betty and Cheryl had averaged out to about the same height, and even though Betty still weighed a little more than her, she was a healthy, normal weight, so Cheryl had nothing to worry about.

 

But the doubt still eats away at her confidence, plaguing her in the middle of the night. The daily runs start the next morning, just to be safe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anything that had been in her stomach is now in the toilet bowl, but Betty’s too focused on evening out her breathing to pay attention to that at the moment. There’s vomit on her collar, and her throat and eyes burn, but all of that will have to wait, because the bathroom door opens, and suddenly, there’s a pale and slender hand on her shoulder. Betty gasps in discomfort and fear.

 

“Relax, you ghoul. It’s just me.” For some reason, her cousin’s unflattering nickname elicits a rough and grating laugh. Betty chalks it up to hysteria. “Toni sent me. She’s making sure the hobo butts out of your business.” God bless Antoinette Topaz. Cheryl raises a brow. “So explain to me your major malfunction before we catch one of the various diseases lurking in this cesspool of a public restroom.”

 

Betty wipes her eyes with her sweater sleeve. “Veronica and Archie-”

 

“Old gossip, not impressed,” Cheryl interrupts. “The puking, that’s new. Care to share, cousin dearest?” And no, Betty’s not really in a sharing kind of mood. But this is Cheryl, and simply saying that you kind of feel like burying your head in the sand is basically a neon sign to her.

 

“I’m just sick,” she says instead. Cheryl rolls her eyes.

 

“Oh Betty, of course I believe you!” She presses the back of one of her hands to her forehead, faking a swoon. “I truly am that stupid!”

 

“You don’t have to be so dramatic about it,” Betty pouts. Cheryl just stares her down.

 

“You don’t have to lie, and yet, here we are.”

 

She sighs shakily. There isn’t any choice. She could fight and lie, but Cheryl’s honed in on her deception and there isn’t anything she can do to throw her off, not when she’s this tired. “It’s not- I’m not-”

 

“Starving yourself?” Cheryl raises her voice, arms crossed over her chest stiffly. Betty swallows.

 

“No. I mean, yes, but-” She groans, throwing her head back against the stall. “It’s- it’s not an eating disorder. I’m not anorexic.” She nods, making an attempt to convince herself of the same story.

 

“So you’re just not eating because… why? Just because?”

 

She tilts her head. “Actually…”

 

Her cousin scoffs. “Please tell me you don’t actually expect me to buy that.” Betty shushes her, fear that someone will overhear their conversation crawling beneath her skin.

 

“It’s a form of control,” she changes tactics, explaining it in AP Psych terminology. “I just… Last year was rough on me, you know? And other people, you can’t rely on them. You can’t trust people or their reactions and I-”

 

“So you’re telling me your response was to stop eating?” Cheryl cuts her off again. Betty makes an aggravated sound.

 

“It’s complicated, Cheryl,” she shuts her eyes and rubs at them, certainly smudging her makeup, but she can’t really force herself to care about something so trivial at the moment. “I just… I need a favor, okay? I need you to not tell anyone about this.”

 

Cheryl looks at her like she’s lost her marbles. Betty can’t really blame her. “Betty, this is dangerous. Don’t you remember how I used to be?”

 

Betty hums. “It’s not like that, though. I don’t- I don’t think I’m _fat_ , Cher. I’ve got the whole situation under control, and I could stop anytime I wanted.” She’s lying through her teeth and she knows it. But Cheryl, bless her fiery heart, seems to buy it.

 

“And you’ll tell me if it gets too much? If you need help? You’ll keep me posted on how you feel?” She nods. Easy enough. Cheryl blows out a breath.

 

“I’ll keep your secret, Nancy Drew. For now.” Betty’s heart rate finally slows down.

 

For now, it’ll have to be enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The two girls emerge from the bathroom about fifteen minutes later, and Betty knows that all she has to do is make it outside without acknowledging her former friends. It’s twenty feet to the door, and she’s safe. Twenty feet, and she and Toni and Cheryl (and maybe Jughead, too, she hasn’t quite decided about him yet) can to the drive-in or go for a run down by Sweetwater or go back to hers for cookies and face masks, or something else that’s stupid and reckless, something that doesn’t make Betty feel so ridiculously _empty._ It’s twenty feet, and she can make her escape from the past.

 

At fifteen feet, Cheryl squeezes her hand, and hard. At ten, she and Jughead make eye contact ever so briefly, and then something just behind her catches his attention. His gaze hardens.

 

With eight feet to go, Betty hears Veronica call out, “Watch out, Archiekins. Caliban Cooper, coming through.” And that’s when everything goes to hell.

 

Because no amount of grabbing at him keeps Jughead by Toni’s side, and then he’s storming towards them. Cheryl says, “Classy as always, Leviathan Lodge,” just before Jughead says, “Can’t you assholes just leave Betty alone? Haven’t had your fill of evildoing yet, or something?”

 

Archie’s face twists in rage. “Cool it, Jones,” he gets out lowly, his tone icy cold. Betty flinches back.

 

“Ju-” She has to pause and clear her throat. “Jug,” she manages, shivering. “Don’t. Please.”

 

Jughead looks back, eyes softer than she’s ever seen. That’s when Archie’s fist comes into contact with his jaw.

 

Cheryl screams. Veronica, for her part, looks dazed. Toni rushes at the five of them.

 

“Betty!” She hears someone cry out for her, feels someone (Jughead, maybe?) reach for her, and then…

 

_You are a monster, Elizabeth Cooper._

 

Betty closes her eyes. She and the darkness within have some catching up to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm truly sorry for the late update. To be honest, I meant to post a lot sooner, and I've had the majority of this chapter finished for a while. However, there have been some things going on in my life that have drained me completely, and I just didn't have the time or energy to finish this up. I really am so sorry for the delay, and I hope to have the next chapter up in the next few days. Thank you guys for all of the love and support. <3 You have no idea how much it means to me.


	9. in my heart and in my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty is... recovering. She leans on her friends.
> 
> And one of them learns to lean on her.
> 
> It feels like a beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "Atlantis" by Seafret.

“Betty.” The poke to her side doesn’t even make her flinch anymore. It’s not the first one this week, and it certainly won’t be the last. She sighs into her hands, her head still hidden behind them. 

“Toni, can you take me home today? Reggie’s helping Josie set up for their act in the show tomorrow night.” She ignores the annoyance next to her in favor of prodding at her salad, taking a few bites to soothe Cheryl’s insistent glare.

“Sorry, B,” Toni gnaws her lips, looking between her and the annoyance at her side. “Cheryl, Kev, and I are staying late, too. We have to finish the backdrops.” Not for the first time this week, Betty whines in disappointment. After her fainting spell at Pop’s, she had been ordered to take it easy for the following week. That meant a break from Vixen practice, a break from her morning runs, a break from reporting, a break from volunteering, from helping Kev with the variety show and from running the homecoming committee. Her friends, however, still had lives to lead, and Betty’s extra time was proving to be more and more of a nuisance.

“Ethel?” She gives her friend her best sorrowful puppy dog eyes, but by her grimace, Ethel’s answer is also…

“No, I can’t, I’m sorry. I have to help Val and Mel with the costumes.” Ethel’s bright red blush, however, screams Dilton and I are going to make out in the tech booth. The two are an odd pair, not one you’d put together upon first glance, but they’re the same brand of nerdy and even though Betty wants to be upset she just can’t stay mad at her friend when she’s this happy.

Even if it means her only option is-

“It’s a Thursday, Betty.” She finally turns to face him, taking note that his jaw is much less purple now than it had been a week ago. “I can take you home?” He doesn’t seem to be relenting, and even though she’s still upset with him…

“I’ll see you after school, Jones,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes and stabbing at her lunch once more. She has the worst luck.

 

 

She wakes up the morning after in her own bed, Toni and Cheryl twined around her. Toni has her head tucked into the crook of Betty’s neck, and Cheryl has encircled them both in her arms. As cozy as it is, Betty’s much too warm.

“Guys,” Betty complains, wriggling to let them know she’s up. 

“Betty!” Cheryl retracts immediately, fussing over her cousin. 

Toni blinks blearily, but jolts up once she realizes whats going on. “Oh my God, you’re alive!”

Betty makes a face. “Was that really a question the two of you had?”

Very seriously, Cheryl says, “Yes.”

Betty snorts, moving to get up. Toni jumps to stop her. “Oh no, you don’t! Let me call Jug, I’ll have him bring breakfast over. Blueberry bagel, right, B?” Cheryl shoots her daggers from behind Toni’s head. Though her stomach is turning itself inside out, Betty nods.

“Cherry vanilla for me, TT!” Cheryl calls after her.

“And an almond milk latte. I know, bombshell,” Toni sings. After she closes the door, Betty arches a brow at her cousin. Cheryl flushes.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.” The heiress straightens just then, as if she’s just now remembering who holds the power in this situation. “So, you have a handle on it, hmm?” Crap.

Betty bites the inside of her cheek so hard that she tastes blood. “Look, there was a lot going on-”

Cheryl holds up a hand to stop her. “You know I don’t approve of your coping mechanism.”

“I know.”

“But I know that you’re smart, Betty.” She’s gentler when she says this. “And I’m going to count on that big brain of yours to realize that this is a problem. But if this happens again, I’m going to have to get you help. You know that, right?”

“I know,” she rasps. Cheryl intertwines their hands in a rare show of affection. Betty doesn’t let go.

It’s not much, but it’s a start. She’ll take what she can get.

 

 

“I am sorry, you know,” he reminds her as she hops on the back of his bike. She doesn’t answer him, just puts on the helmet. They ride off towards her house in complete silence. Alice and FP have yet to arrive when they get to the Cooper house. Betty works on setting table. Jughead leans against the counter. 

“Are you really just not going to talk to me?” Instead of responding, she sets down another plate. “Betty, I said I was sorry.”

“The point is, you had no right.” She looks at him briefly before adjusting the placement of a soup spoon. Jughead mumbles something. “What was that?”

“You’re right. I know that,” he says, a little louder. She glances at him in surprise. “But I was worried about you. I know I shouldn’t have overstepped like that, but…” He stares down at his shoes. “I just want you to take care of yourself. To be okay.” Her cheeks feel warm. Why are her cheeks so warm?

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and at first, she doesn’t think he’s heard her. But his ears grow pink, and he doesn’t lift his gaze to meet hers, and she feels the embarrassment radiating off him in waves. It’s clear that he knows.

It’s enough.

 

 

At breakfast, it’s just the four of them. Toni and Cheryl think they’re being sneaky, but Cheryl accidentally kicking Betty under the table is all it takes to realize they’re playing footsie. She wants to roll her eyes at how oblivious they are, but she doesn’t. She just takes another half-hearted bite of bagel, and winces at the pain in her stomach.

“Betty? You okay?” She meets Jughead’s eyes, and she’s sure her face has blanched by now. She smiles, big and fake, and nods. He seems less than convinced. But there’s a knock at her front door, and he gets up to get it.

“I brought a selection,” Reggie says, walking inside. “Ethel, Kev, and I agree that we have to watch at least one musical, but the rest is up to you, Betts.” He dumps the DVDs on the table. Betty wants to laugh at Reggie’s sudden affinity for musicals, knowing exactly how that particular obsession had come about. Kevin and Ethel, who’d followed him in, set down their bags. 

“We brought popcorn and face masks. The essentials, obviously.” Kevin says.

“Thanks, guys,” she smiles for real, this time.

“Anytime, B.C.!” Reggie grins. Kevin comes over to give her a hug, and Ethel and Toni immediately begin a debate about which musical to watch. It sounds like Ethel is winning with a Disney movie over Toni’s pick of Sweeney Todd. It’s a bit like perfection, and Betty thinks she could stay here forever.

But… “I should go.” For the first time, Jughead seems unwilling to intrude. He looks more uncomfortable than Betty’s ever seen him. She frowns. 

“Why?” He shuffles from one foot to another, and scratches the back of his neck.

“Well… I mean, Sweet Pea and Fangs wanted to hang out today-”

“So invite them over. There’s room.”

He looks at her with the most hopeful eyes she’s ever seen. “Really?”

She doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course.” Though she protested at first, Jughead is here to stay, and she’s accepted it. She maybe even likes having him around. Of course, she’d never tell him that.

And it may be a little bit of a struggle to fit everyone in the Cooper living room, after Ethel had invited Dilton and Reggie had invited the Pussycats and Jughead had invited his friends, but that’s completely fine. Betty’s half in Sweet Pea’s lap, half in Jughead’s, with Fangs’s head in her lap, and she giggles when they make under-the-breath commentary about the merits of Cinderella. Josie has curled herself into Reggie’s side, and Reggie looks like he could die happy right now. Toni, Cheryl, Val, and Mel have formed an awkward cuddle pile on the carpet, and Betty’s not certain they can even see the TV screen. Ethel and Dilton had been the only two to elect to sit on the couch, but she’s sure they’re paying less attention to the movie than they are.

Okay, it’s not perfect. But it’s pretty close to it. 

Betty thinks she can live with that.

 

“Excited for the show tonight, B.C.?” Betty’s been dreading this question all week. She hates to break the hearts of her friends, but Archie and Veronica are going to be singing together, and after their last interaction, she’s not too keen on a repeat performance.

“I don’t think so, Reg,” she says softly, and though she knows he understands why, he wilts. She doesn’t budge, however. She imagines how the night will play out without her there, and she knows her friends are better off without her drama. Even though they’re speaking again, Jughead stays silent.

Once Reggie heads off for class, Jughead finally tells her what’s on his mind. “You should go tonight. Show them they don’t scare you.”

She sighs. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Jughead…”

“How about this, then?” He says, leaning back against the wall. “If you come tonight, I’ll stick with you the whole time, and you won’t have to talk to them at all. We can sit in the hall during their act, or something.”

She still has her doubts, but she does want to see the Pussycats perform… “Promise?” She holds out her pinky. Is it childish? Yes. But she doesn’t care.

He links their fingers. “Promise.”

Jughead’s not so bad, she decides. They’re not quite friends, but they’re definitely something.

It’s a start. She’ll take it.

 

 

The show runs smoothly, beautifully. The Pussycats win, no contest. Josie glows under Reggie’s praise. Val and Mel cozy up to each other, proud as can be. Kevin basks in the compliments on the quality of the show, and makes eyes at Moose. Betty wrinkles her nose and makes a note not to be the one to fetch all of her friends at the end of the night. And Jughead makes good on his promise, because she and her ex-friends don’t come into contact once. She and Jughead had headed out just before their duet to grab concessions, and Archie and Veronica storm out right after they lose. The night is perfect, too perfect for comfort. She knows something’s coming before it happens.

“So Jughead, anyone you’ve got your eye on?” She curses quietly, too quiet to be overheard. She is so, so happy for Reggie, happy that he’s head over heels and happy that he wants his friends to feel the same. But Jughead stiffens and retracts from the group and she knows immediately that Reggie needs to back off, now.

“No,” he says, and Betty prays Reggie leaves it at that. He doesn’t, of course.

“What? Okay, there’s definitely someone into you, dude. Someone’s just dying to know what you look like under the Donnie Darko costume.”

“Reg,” Betty attempts to warn him, but she’s too late. Jughead turns around and rushes for the door.

“Jughead!” She calls after him. But she’s too late, because he’s gone in an instant.

“What did I say?” Reggie, who’s absolutely devastated at the thought that he’s hurt one of his friends, turns to Toni for an answer. “Should I go apologize? He knows I was teasing, right? I didn’t think-”

“Mantle,” Toni cuts him off, rubbing his arm. “Let someone else go after him. We know you didn’t mean anything by it, and I’m sure he knows it, too. You can apologize when he gets back.”

Though Reggie is still upset, he acquiesces, and hands Betty his jacket to give to Jughead. No one else seems to question who’s going after him; they automatically assume it’s her. At the beginning of the school year, she wouldn’t even be in this position, because she and Jughead didn’t speak outside of the passing antagonism. Now, though? She’s chasing after him, ready to save him like he’s been trying to save her.

Is she ready for that level of closeness with him? Is he?

It doesn’t matter, because she’s heading for the exit.

 

 

Everyone leaves, eventually. All of them except one.

“Hey, Betty! What do you have to eat around here?” Jughead yells from the kitchen. From the couch, Betty feels her eyes roll back in her head.

“Why don’t you look?” She yells back. She’s got an old episode of Criminal Minds on that she’s not really watching, and a few different textbooks scattered at her feet. Right now, she’s editing Toni’s opinion piece on budget cuts at school, and how the school board had immediately downsized the arts program when the athletics program had money to spare. It’s hard-hitting, a fine work of investigative journalism, and Betty can’t wait for it to be the front page story.

“Oh, hi, Ms. Cooper,” she hears as the front door squeaks open. Immediately, she’s up and running.

“What? Mom, you’re home!” She rushes into her mother’s arms, nearly knocking her off balance. Alice hugs her back tightly.

“Turns out the Harvest Festival in Greendale was cancelled this year. All of their pumpkins are rotting due to a strange fungus,” she explains, a twinkle in her eye. Betty recognizes it. Her mother says it’s a Cooper girl thing, a sign that they just can’t resist a good mystery. “It’s a bigger story than we thought, so I’m here to grab more hands. Are you free? Can we get lunch together at Pop’s? I want to hear about everything I’ve missed the past few days.”

She wants to jump in excitement. She misses her mother when she’s gone, when it’s just her in this big and empty house. But she can’t because… “I, um… I’m not allowed back at Pop’s just yet.”

And there’s the spark again, but in a more calculating and cold manner. It’s to be expected. The matter is regarding her mother’s youngest, after all. “Why aren’t you allowed at Pop’s, Betty?”

“There was a fight. Archie punched Jughead, and they made a bit of a scene, and-” She’s twisting her hands and trying to put a spin on it so that no one comes across badly, but Jughead, who she’d all but forgotten was by her side, has other plans.

“She fainted, Ms. Cooper.” Alice’s jaw drops. “Which is why I’m here. We were all worried about her, so we’ve been keeping an eye on her.”

“Jughead,” she hisses. Her mother rounds on her. 

“Betty? You fainted?”

“She hasn’t been sleeping, Ms. Cooper,” Jughead continues. “I think she’s taken on more than she can handle.”

“Elizabeth, is this true?”

The anger overwhelms her. “I can’t believe you!” She pushes him. It doesn’t seem to faze him.

“It was for your own good,” he says, meeting her eyes with practiced consternation. She hates it.

Lowly, she snarls, “You don’t get to say that to me.” And then she’s shoving him out the door and slamming it behind him and pressing her nails into her palms until she feels the skin break. And then her mother grounds her, and she’s burning with fury. But she smiles, and she goes to bed, and she tries to move along with her life. Because Betty is a Cooper girl, and she’s stronger than people think. She’ll get her shit sorted out, and things will be alright. They’ll have to be.

It’s a new beginning for Betty Cooper, she thinks to herself. For now, it’s going to have to be enough.

 

 

She spots him curled up on the front steps. She knows the cold bothers him, and she knows he’d never admit it. She knows a lot more about him, these days. She throws Reggie’s jacket over him, and though he doesn’t acknowledge her presence with more than a slight head tilt, he wraps the jacket around himself all the same.

“Are you gonna tell me what all of that was about?” He laughs a little. It sounds sad. She doesn’t like it. Not at all.

“Confession?” He side-eyes her, one of his dark curls slipping loose and flopping down in his face. She nods slowly, to let him know she’s listening. He exhales, steam billowing in the chilled air around them. “Reggie hit a sore spot.”

Her face furrows. “How?” She asks. A minute passes. Two minutes. Three. Betty wiggles on the fifth step to stay warm.

He tries to get out a response. “Because I’ve never-” He groans, shoving his head in his hands. And then, by some miracle, he moves his hands up to slide off his beanie, and sets it gently in his lap. 

“Jug?” She whispers. This feels intimate. Is he ready for that? Is she?

“I don’t- I’m not-” He cuts himself off again, fiddling with the ridges of his crown. She waits for him. “I’m not interested in people like that, Betty.” 

“Like what?”

“Like…” He makes a low, unsure noise in his throat. “I don’t- I’m not interested in sex. It’s never been- It’s not something I think about. At all.” He bites his lip, looking pained. “I think about romance! And love, and… stuff.” He says quickly, glancing at her just for a second. “But not the- not the sex stuff.” She’s never heard him struggle with his words like this before. The fixer inside of her comes out without further prompting.

“So you’re… asexual?” She places a hand on his shoulder as she says this, to let him know she’s not going anywhere soon. She doesn’t expect the reflexive grab at her hand, doesn’t expect him to hold it there, but she leaves it alone. Whatever he needs.

“Yeah, I guess,” and he laughs again, but it’s harsher. “Guess I’m more of a freak than you pegged me for, huh?”

“Hey,” she says sharply, and it catches him by surprise, if his wide eyes are a good indicator. “You are not a freak. You are a human being, you’re a good person, and you are entitled to feel the way you feel.”

“Even if it makes me a bit of a weirdo?” He seems so small as he says this. She can hardly stand it.

“Well, then,” she says, “I guess we’ll be weirdos together.”

He doesn’t say anything, after that. But he does smile, and he doesn’t let go of her hand.

Betty thinks it’s a good start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH you guys are the best. Last chapter got such a positive response and honestly, I really needed that. I thank you all!!! I hope this chapter gave you guys a much needed break from all of the doom and gloom. Betty is getting better, sort of!! And BUGHEAD!!! I literally screeched while rereading the last seen after I wrote it. My friends thought I was insane. BTW, as you can probably tell, I'm against the writers' decision to erase Jughead's sexuality in the comics. I think they had a really great opportunity for representation, and I think that Bughead would still be a beautiful and supportive ship if Jug was ace. Just my opinion :P


	10. we can act as strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And all too quickly, things fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "Amused" by Hunger, Hunger.

Things begin to go wrong when Sweet Pea picks her up for school one morning. Reggie has a game Friday, and as captain, he’s decided on early morning practice everyday this week. Kevin had agreed to accompany him, which their entire group knows is solely because he wants to support Moose. Dilton and Ethel are carpooling, Toni’s picking up Cheryl on her bike, and Jughead is supposed to be taking her to school this week. She pulls on a snag in her sweater, forcing herself to leave her hands be.

 

“Hey, Cooper,” Sweet Pea salutes her, and she forces herself not to flinch. _He’s been better lately, Betty,_ she reminds herself. _It’s a tiny slip-up._

 

“Where’s Jug?” She tries to say casually, but it comes out as more of a petulant whine. God, why is she so pathetic today?

 

“Out sick,” he grimaces. “Wicked cold. Probably from sitting out in the rain on Friday. He should be back tomorrow. Guess you’re stuck with me today,” and then he actually winks at her, which is only acceptable because she knows he’s only joking, knows he’s so completely hung up on Fangs that there’s no possible way he’s interested in her. Right now, however, she’s mostly just feeling guilty for Jughead being sick. It’s a trademark Betty Cooper thing, blaming herself for her friends’ problems, and therefore it’s not that unusual for her to blame herself for not forcing him to come back inside after he ran out. But because she knows she’s being irrational and that Sweet Pea is waiting on her, she lets it go.

 

So she wraps her arm around his waist and holds on for dear life — she’s got enough experience with Jughead and Toni to last her a lifetime. It begins to drizzle just as they pull up to Riverdale High. Fangs waits for them in the parking lot.

 

“Reggie and Jug told us they usually walk with you, so I guess we’re your interim escorts for the day, milady!” Fangs grins haphazardly, offering a hand to her. She giggles, taking it, and their arms swing between them. She wants to be annoyed with her overbearing protectors for hiring new bodyguards, but she does suppose it’s the thought that counts.

 

They don’t even make it five steps into the building before Sweet Pea opens his dumb mouth. “Hey, Betty, hold up a sec.”

 

She pauses. Something’s off. “What’s up?”

 

“Fangs and I owe you an apology.”

 

A cold wave of fear pulses through her. Neither of the boys notice.

 

“Shit, yeah, Betts,” Fangs adds, “we were horrible to you.”

 

Sweet Pea sees that she’s frozen, and takes it as a sign to continue, even though she’s wishing he’d do anything but. “All the stuff when we were younger and whatever… we had our own stuff going on.”

 

“We took it out on you,” Fangs finishes. “We’re so sorry.”

 

She nods. _They’re sorry_. That’s what matters, right?

 

“Betty?”

 

_One breath, two breaths, three, c’mon Betty, breathe…_

 

“It’s fine,” she says slowly, measuring the weight. “You’re forgiven.”

 

The two light up. “Really?” Sweet Pea smiles wide.

 

“Really,” she affirms. The twist in her stomach says otherwise, but for now, she’ll keep it to herself.

 

“Great!” Fangs twirls her around, and brings her in for a hug. “We love you, B.”

 

_It’s no wonder your friends abandoned you. You really are unlovable._

 

“Yeah,” she swallows. “I love you guys, too.”

 

 

 

 

A little while after Archie and Valerie break up, after Archie and Veronica stop completely ignoring Betty and after the rumors die down a bit, they start talking about freshman winter formal. And not just in the way they had talked about it in the past. Veronica had devoted Pinterest boards to hair and makeup inspiration, and Archie had already asked her to think of a cute, creative way to ask Veronica. The dance was all her best friends could think about, which would be cute if Betty wasn’t third-wheeling a dynamic she didn’t fully support in the first place.

 

Honestly, Betty would be more invested in the dance if she wasn’t third-wheeling at all. The problem was, no one had stepped up and asked her yet. Sure, she supposed she could ask someone herself, but generally social anxiety makes tasks such as that one rather difficult. She’d heard from Kevin who’d heard from Josie who’d heard from Val that her brother Trev had plans to invite her, but as the days passed and the dance approached, she gave up hope.

 

Confiding in Veronica had somehow made the situation that much worse in her head. “Betty, I thought the plan was you were coming with us,” Veronica says, with one perfectly shaped brow raised in the mirror.

 

“Well, yeah,” she groans, “if nobody asked me.”

 

“Well, we all knew that wasn’t going to happen,” she dismisses. Betty winces. True, she hadn’t been expecting to get asked, but it’s one thing to listen to your internalized insecurities, and another entirely to have them validated by a best friend. She wants to tell V as much, but then her friend asks, “Which lipstick, Brazen Berry or Violet Volt?” and she knowsV has lost interest.

 

She sighs. Oh, well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes, when she misses them, she sits behind the bleachers out by the football field. Three sets of initials are scratched into the metal, a permanent reminder of countless afternoons spent sequestered away, humming along to Archie’s newly composed melody lines and improvised chords. She lays down and stares at the lettering, burning it into her brain so she still sees an echo of it when her eyes are closed. She waits until a large figure joins her, pressing slightly into her side, radiating warmth in the cool, wet autumn air.

 

“Am I wrong?” She breaks the silence. “Is this me being desperate? Am I wrong to trust them, to trust _him_?”

 

“Betty.” Kevin’s voice is soft, but she barrels on.

 

“Reg used to call me a prude. Fangs called me weird. Sweet Pea called me ugly. Jug said I was—” Her breath catches in her throat.

 

“Unlovable,” Kev finishes, tinged with anger and a hint of weariness.

 

“Am I?” Her best friend shifts beside her, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together.

 

“You know you’re not.”

 

“They left, Kev. They’re gone. I lost them.”

 

“That wasn’t your fault.”

 

“Not completely. But I said things, too.”

 

“People don’t always work together, Betty.”

 

“Do Reggie and I work? Fangs and I? Sweets and I?”

 

“They love you, Betts, you know they do.”

 

“And Jug?” She murmurs, barely there. Kevin exhales, and squeezes her hand once.

 

“Things are different now,” he tells her. “Everything is different now.” She knows. She feels different, too.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

They lay there, entangled, until the last bell rings, sitting and watching and waiting in silence. The rain beats on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They take V’s limo to the dance, and within five minutes, Veronica and Archie have begun arguing. Veronica is stunning in a flowing gold dress, and Archie’s tie is very red and very much not matching.

 

“I even bought you a tie. All you had to do was put it on!”

 

“I couldn’t find it!”

 

“You _lost_ it?”

 

Betty stares down at her lap. If she were a different girl, she would reach over and grab one of the bottles of champagne sitting in the ice bucket in a tempting manner.

 

But she’s Betty Cooper in a pale blue dress, Betty Cooper who’s third-wheeling her two best friends instead of going with a date, Betty Cooper with a telltale heart who doesn’t know how to be anything but the nice girl. They arrive at the dance, and she’s Betty Cooper in the corner by the snack table, watching her two best friends slow dance together as her nausea mounts.

 

She’s just Betty, the same kind of girl she’s always been, boring and bland and—

 

“Cooper,” she hears a voice that has her eyes snapping shut, that has her shoulders tensing and her heart rate quickening.  _Of fucking course._

 

“Jones,” she responds, tone icy. It’s going to be a long night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey, Betty.” Ethel sits down across from her. She had tucked herself in her usual hiding place within the library, between a shelf of old periodicals and the wall. She’s nose-deep in a copy of _I Am The Messenger_ , but quickly slides in a band-aid wrapper she’d been fiddling with as a placeholder.

 

“Ethel,” she gasps, and buries herself in the other girl’s kind embrace. Ethel gives the best hugs in the world, or so Betty had declared to a younger version of her bookish friend long ago. She practically melts into the floor, letting her facade fall away and the tears overtake her.

 

“Darling,” Ethel says gently as Betty burrows her head into her neck, crawling so she’s situated in Ethel’s lap, turned in towards her friend’s chest. “Darling, remember to breathe.”

 

“I can’t!” Betty wants to wail, but settles for a pitiful whine, her wheezing making the phrase that much more difficult. “I don’t know… I can’t… It’s just… It’s not fair!” She does wail, this time. Ethel shushes her, but it doesn’t matter, because Betty immediately quiets as she chokes on her own shuddering breaths.

 

“What’s not fair, Betty?” Ethel asks when it seems like she’s more collected.

 

_My dad is dead. My best friends hate me. No one ever chose me. I was bullied. All of you feel like you have to choose a side. Polly is gone. Mom is never around anymore. I can’t even trust my own judgement. And Jughead…_

 

_UNLOVABLEUNLOVABLEUNLOVABLEUNLOVABLEUNLOVABLEUNLOVABLE—_

 

She jolts in Ethel’s arms.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

Voice wrought with a tired bitterness, Betty rasps, “That I forgave him.”

 

Ethel doesn’t respond to that. She knows. Betty knows, too. But Betty is exhausted, her ponytail is askew, her mascara stains her cheeks, and her cream sweater is covered in grass stains. She cuddles into Ethel’s side a little longer. Later, she decides. She’ll give him hell later.

 

She drifts off after that.

 

 

 

 

 

“All by yourself tonight, huh? I would’ve thought all the young gentlemen in town who could afford the dowry would be lining up at your door,” Jughead says from beside her. She snorts, taking a long sip of punch.

 

“Trust me,” she sighs, “there was no line.”

 

He stills. “No one?”

 

“No one,” she affirms, and gives a little huff. “I’m practically unlovable.” She chances a glance at him. He looks thoughtful, like he’s going to provide her with some insight, but she beats him to the punch. “Funny how we always end up next to each other, huh? We must make quite the picture.”

 

Jughead stiffens, and immediately she knows she’s said the wrong thing.

 

“Well, if you didn’t follow people who clearly don’t want you around like a lost puppy, then maybe you’d actually succeed in landing a date and you wouldn’t have to stand by me.”

 

“Hey,” she says sharply, “don’t talk about them like that.” Her nails dig into her palms almost reflexively.

 

“Why not? That relationship,” he points to where Archie is twirling Veronica on the floor, “was born out of secrets and lies. What makes you think they’re not keeping you out of the loop for a million other things? They’re keeping you sidelined right now, what makes you think it’s any different any other time?”

 

“And why don’t you have a date?” She pokes him in the chest. “Nothing better to do that sit here and pick apart my life?”

 

“For your information, I chose to come alone.”

 

“More like nobody wanted to come with you.”

 

“It’s no wonder your friends abandoned you,” he matches her stance, clenched fists and all. “You really are unlovable.”

 

The fire dies. All the fight leaves her body. She can feel tears prick at her eyes. “Oh,” she breathes. “You’re right.”

 

Jughead, for his part, seems to realize he’s gone much too far. “No, wait,” he groans, “I didn’t mean—”

 

“You did,” she nods once, with a pained smile. “I’m going to go now.”

 

_See Betty run._

 

And she does.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maybe, if her mind were clearer, she would have realized that this was not the right time.

 

The wind howls at her as she makes her way to the door, thunder cracking overhead. She knocks twice, hoping she can be heard over the gale outside. She doesn’t have a ride home. She’d ditched her escorts after school, sneaking away down the side streets to end up at his door.

 

He emerges, beanie-less, with bedhead and a red nose and a very surprised look on his face. “Betty,” he coughs, sounding gritty.

 

“We need to talk, Jones.” She pushes past him. Though he shuts the door behind her, he can’t shut out the noise outside. Betty trembles, the deafening loudness of her thoughts rivaling the storm.

 

“What’s wrong?” And she snaps.

 

“What’s wrong,” she whirls around, “is you!” Lightning flashes, illuminating a pale and confused visage. She cackles in a crazed, cruel fashion. He takes a step back.

 

“Betty,” he says helplessly. She slides down against a wall.

 

“Why’d you say it?”

 

Jughead reaches for her. “Say what, Betts? What did I say?”

 

“Why did you say I was unlovable?”

 

He recoils like she’s burned him. “I—”

 

“‘Cause you know,” she continues, voice thick, “I keep turning it over in my head. I mean, you were never that terrible to me, not really. More of a nuisance than anything else.” She snortsa little at the thought, and stares off through the window, watching the winds rip through the trees, seeing flimsy patio furniture flying through the air.

 

“Betty,” he gulps. She looks to him with dead eyes. She has no sympathy now. Just brewing fury.

 

“So what I don’t understand,” she says, voice calm as she can manage, “is why.”

 

“Betty,” he repeats her name like it’s his only tether to her. “You have to know that you did nothing, trust me—”

 

“I can’t, Jug!” She cries, bursting with emotion. She wipes her tear tracks away with two hands. “It’s not just this one thing, it’s _everything,_ and I can’t trust that you… that you’re…” She inhales, albeit shakily. _One breath, two breaths, three…_ “What you’ve said, and what you’ve done,” she finally whispers, “I don’t know how to move past that. I thought that I could, but with everthing,” she shudders, closing in on herself, “it’s too much.”

 

“Betty,” he breathes, “Betty, I’m sorry.”

 

She laughs. It rings out, clear and hollow. “You’re sorry.” She stands, and her vision fogs around the edges. “Everyone’s sorry. But that doesn’t change what’s happened.”

 

“Betts—”

 

“Please,” she interrupts, “don’t.”

 

She makes a break for the door, but he stops her. “You can’t go out there until I know you have a ride,” he tells her. “Hate me all you want, I’d rather you did that than die.”

 

“Fine.” So she steps into the kitchen and she calls her mom, and then they wait in silence, listening to the rattling of the trailer.

 

She doesn’t know where they go from here.

 

 

 

 

“B?” Betty sniffles and rubs her eyes. She must look like a mess. “Babe, what happened back there?”

 

She forces an unsteady smile. Veronica sits on the floor beside her. “Honestly, V, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

 

“I call bullshit,” Veronica sings, snaking her arms around Betty to pull her in for a hug.

 

“You should go back. Archie probably misses you.” She rests her head beneath Veronica’s chin. She can’t see her friends face, but she can almost feel her frown.

 

“Archiekins can fend for himself for a little while. My best girl needs me.” And with that, she leans them back against a wall of lockers, rustling them a slight bit to get comfortable.

 

Betty sneaks a glance at Veronica, a goddess in gold, and smiles goofily. Her heart bottoms out.

 

_Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry for how late this is, and i'm sorry that we're spiraling down again. unfortunately, that's just how it happens. i love you guys so much. i enjoy hearing your thoughts on this fic, and how you think i can improve. it makes me want to be better so you guys can enjoy this tale more. 
> 
> warning you now, next chapter is... rough, to say the least. especially for choni.
> 
> i may release a short lil oneshot au to act as a brief light before we get down into it. 
> 
> we're slowly approaching what you've all been waiting for... what happened in the spring of sophomore year.
> 
> stick with me, guys. we'll get there.
> 
> lots of love and appreciation being sent your way <3


	11. howling ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toni is hurting. Cheryl is hurting.
> 
> Betty has decided enough is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "King and Lionheart" by Of Monsters and Men.

When the rain continues on Tuesday, Reggie cancels morning practice and calls Betty to let her know he’s picking everyone up. Betty sends up thanks to whatever guardian angel has given her an excuse to avoid facing Sweet Pea and Fangs for another couple of hours. Yes, they’re big, lovable idiots, but they’re also _Jughead’s_ big, lovable idiots, and the thought of braving the ride to school alone with them after what she’s said to their best friend is… daunting, to say the least. It’s likely the cause of the pit of dread that’s taken ahold of her. She’s got that feeling that something is about to go very, very wrong. Of course, that could always be chalked up to black coffee on an empty stomach, but it feels like more than that, for whatever reason.

 

It’s when she gets in the car that she realizes she’s right to be so on edge today. Because yes, there’s Reggie with his easy, dopey smile, and Kevin with his glowing positivity, but there is one member of the usual carpool gang who is noticeably absent, and it’s certainly affecting Cheryl’s mood, if her bloodshot eyes and deep frown are anything to go by.

 

“Get in the car, Betty,” her cousin snarks. “ You’re late. Some of us have places to be.”

 

Reggie turns around to give Cheryl a chiding look, but Betty waves him off. “Sorry, Cheryl,” she sighs hoarsely, “it won’t happen again.” Cheryl, for her part, seems the slightest bit apologetic. She feels the air of concern intensify, feels the unasked questions whirring around their heads. They drive to school making idle conversation and ignoring the multiple elephants in the room.

 

It’s not ideal, but she makes it work. She has to. Because she doesn’t know what she’ll do if she can’t.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Liking Veronica isn’t much different from being her best friend, which makes Betty question everything she knows if she dwells on it too long, so she mostly pretends that part isn’t even a consideration. She wakes up in the morning and texts Veronica. She walks to school with Archie and meets up with Veronica out on the front steps. She walks to class with Veronica. She eats lunch with Veronica and Archie. She sits in the journalism room and daydreams about Veronica, which makes Jughead snap at her for being distracted. She waits for Veronica while she’s at Vixen practice, and watches from the bleachers. She and Veronica meet up with Archie and walk to Pop’s. She and Archie say goodbye to Veronica and walk home. She calls Veronica and the two of them talk until a little past midnight.

 

The saddest part is that it’s everything they’ve done before. It’s a familiar routine, and the only change is the sudden realization Betty’s come to that there will never be anybody else for her than the raven-haired princess herself, Veronica Lodge.

 

Or, no, that’s not right, either. The saddest part isn’t that she’s so hung up on Veronica.

 

It’s that Veronica is so hung up on Archie.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her mother is still out of town, so no one’s there to chastise her for skipping class in favor of hunkering down in the journalism room. One of the perks of being a school reporter is that her press pass makes for an excellent excuse note, something she’s never been brave enough to use for her own purposes. She should feel guilty for dishonoring her mantle of _nice girl, good girl, golden girl of Riverdale_ , but honestly, she doesn’t give a shit.

 

The door loudly flings open, and then slams shut, and Betty barely has time to flinch before she’s being tackled to the ground.

 

“She _hates_ me!” Toni wails, wrapping herself around Betty likes she’s an octopus. “She’s never going to talk to me again and it’s _all my fault_! I’m so stupid, I don’t know what I was thinking, I can’t believe I actually—” Betty sees Toni’s eyes, dazed and glassy, and feels the unsteady breaths she’s taking, and it doesn’t take more than that to know it’s time to act.

 

“ _Toni_ ,” Betty sets her hands squarely on her friend’s shoulders. “In for four, hold for seven, out for eight, okay? Match my breathing.”

 

It takes a minute — it usually does — to get Toni to focus on her, but slowly, her friend regains control of the situation. Two tears roll down her cheeks. Finally, she says, “People like her, and people like me… they never work out together.”

 

And Betty’s heart breaks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Archie’s taking me out Sunday night,” Veronica tells her as she swings her legs, perched on the edge ofBetty’s bed. “Where do you think he’ll take me?”

 

Betty puts on her bravest face. “Well, what’re you hoping for, V?”

 

Her face lights up. “There’s a Nicolas Sparks marathon all weekend at the drive-in. I know you and I were hoping to go, B, but oh, wouldn’t it be so romantic?”

 

It stings a little (a lot), but she smiles and says, “Archie’s smarter than he looks. I’m sure he won’t disappoint.”

 

Later, when Veronica falls asleep, softly snoring, Betty rings Archie on the phone. “Okay, so here’s what she wants…”

 

On Monday, Veronica waxes poetry at passerby about the true connection she and Archie have, how he always knows just what she’s thinking, how he looks in the moonlight at midnight. Betty straightens, Betty smiles, and Betty plays her part.

 

It’s what she’s good at.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She has to leave Toni very briefly to go to practice, so she calls Kevin and has him stay with her until she gets back.

 

“C’mon, cousin dearest, you should know the importance of punctuality by now,” but the bite is barely there. And though Cheryl barks through practice and runs the girls harder than she has all year, Betty sees behind the anger and the bitchy front.

 

Cheryl’s hurting. Badly.

 

After the long, grueling hour ends, on her way back to the journalism room, she creates a new group chat with all of her friends, excluding three particular people. She watches as a plan begins to take shape.

 

Betty is a fixer by nature. And if she wants to fix this, she’s going to need all the help she can get.

 

 

 

 

 

“V.”

 

“Sorry, what was that?” Veronica looks up from her phone, which has been attached to her hand since they sat down. Betty had ordered their usual milkshake flavors, since her best friend had been otherwise occupied. Veronica’s shake sits untouched in front of her. It’s starting to drive Betty mad.

 

Betty sighs. “Did you understand the English homework or not?”

 

Veronica nods, glancing back down. “Sounds great, B.”

 

She holds back a scream of frustration. “What are you even looking at?”

 

“Hmm?” V doesn’t even make eye contact. On an impulse, Betty snatches her phone from her. “Hey!” Veronica cries.

 

She doesn’t really read the screen at all, but she still catches a glimpse of the contact name, Archiekins, followed by around seven red heart emojis. It makes her blood boil. “This is B and V time, Ron. Text Arch later.” She feels guilty for taking the offending object, so she hands it back as she says it. Veronica glares at her, clutching it to her chest.

 

“It could be important. He’s acting strange.” Betty must look unimpressed, because Veronica follows this with, “No, I’m serious! He seems distant lately. You haven’t noticed it?”

 

“V,” she groans, “we’re in the middle of midterms. He’s probably just stressed.”

 

“Yeah,” Veronica’s lip wobbles, “but—”

 

“If it’s really bothering you that badly, V,” she says, suddenly very tired, “I’ll confront him about it.”

 

Veronica’s shoulders, which she hadn’t noticed were tensed, drop, like she’s just been relieved of a great burden. Betty kicks herself for not noticing it earlier. “You would do that for me?”

 

“I would do anything for you, V,” Betty tells her.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

Isn’t it obvious?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kevin tells Reggie not to worry about getting the three of them home, and calls his dad instead. Sheriff Keller drives them to Betty’s and tells them to call him if they need anything. Betty switches on the early seasons of Criminal Minds, which Toni much prefers due to her great love of Mandy Patinkin’s acting skills. Kevin starts the popcorn. Toni, who has memorized the layout of the Cooper household at this point, digs out around eleven blankets from the linen closet on the second floor, and brings them downstairs to the living room. They all work on their own tasks in compatible silence. Toni has the floor.

 

They make it until Hotch starts verbally tearing into Reid to trick the killer, until he’s kicking Reid in the stomach so he can grab his gun. Toni cries out like she’s in pain. Kevin immediately mutes the episode.

 

“Toni?” Betty shuffles closer to her from beneath the blankets. Toni whimpers.

 

“Do you guys think you could do that?” She whispers, barely there. From Toni’s other side, Kevin slings an arm around her shoulders.

 

“Do what, T?”

 

“Break people down into parts? Make sense of why they do evil things?”

 

She and Kevin share a glance above Toni’s head. From the side table, her phone dings. She knows who it’s from without checking it.

 

 _I’ve got her_ , Kevin mouths. She blows him a kiss, scooting away from the cuddle fest on the couch. Toni whines at the loss of warmth.

 

“I’ll be back,” she murmurs gently. Her phone buzzes in her hand again, and she scurries up the stairs to answer it. “Josie, how is she?”

 

“Not great, B. I’ve got Tina and Ginger on watch right now. Val and Mel made a run to Pop’s for comfort food.”

 

“What do you think happened?” She bites her thumb.

 

There’s so much exhaustion in Josie’s voice when she says, “Honestly? Who knows with these two? They’ve been dancing on eggshells since like, fifth grade.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s never been…”

 

“This bad, I know.” She hears Josie sigh. “I can’t get much out of her. She’s spiraling into self-hate right now, so I’m guessing whatever happened, she started it.”

 

“Be careful with her, Josie,” Betty chides.

 

“You think I don’t know that? I love my girl dearly, but she’s got the emotional range of fucking celery.”

 

“Josie—”

 

“Yeah, bad reference, I get it.” There’s a loud noise over the other line. “Oh, Val and Mel are back. By the way, Reggie’s on his way over. I know Topaz likes her quiet, so I made him promise to be the minimum level of dumbass today. You’re welcome.”

 

She giggles. “Just ask him out already.”

 

She can _feel_ Josie’s eye roll from here. “No way! I know that boy’s got a plan for how this goes down, and there is no way in hell I’m gonna ruin the fun. He just better make it soon.” There’s a lull as Josie converses with either Val or Mel. From downstairs, she hears the door open. It must be Reggie. She feels a smile tug on her lips. “Yo, Betty, I gotta bounce. Cheryl’s having another crying fit. I’ll keep you posted if you keep me posted?”

 

“Of course, Josie. Talk later.” Feeling satisfied, she heads back. Divide and conquer, that’s their strategy. Of course, all thoughts of strategy go out the fucking window when she waltzes into her living room, and Jughead Jones is lounging on her couch. He glances up at her, and a look of sheer panic crosses his face.

 

“Betty,” he squeaks.

 

Just her _fucking_ luck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It turns out, Betty doesn’t get the chance to confront Archie.

 

“Betty, I need your help.” She’s getting real sick of hearing that sentence from Archie. It’s seven in the morning, and Betty is too tired for this. But she’s Betty Cooper, nice girl extraordinaire, so she whirls around with a huge smile plastered all over her face.

 

“Of course! What’s…” Oh, _fuck_. Archie looks like a train wreck. For starters, he hasn’t shaved, which is very unlike him. His hair is an unkempt mess, matted down and greasy. His eyes are bloodshot and seem faraway. His clothes, the same from yesterday, are rumpled and wrinkled, meaning he definitely slept in them. She raises a hand to cover her mouth.

 

“Archie, you look _awful_.”

 

He quirks a brow at her. “Gee, Betts, way to be harsh.” But it’s all wrong, lacking its usual humor.

 

“Sorry,” she tells him. “What happened to you last night?”

 

Archie squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t have feelings for Veronica anymore,” he says quickly, all in one breath.

 

“What?” She practically screeches. It’s not her finest moment. Archie looks miserable.

 

“What do I do?”

 

Her response is immediate. “Break up with her, you jackass! Don’t lead her on!”

 

Archie rubs his eyes. “I can’t do this to her again.”

 

She pauses, knowing that whatever happens next, she’s going to play a large part in it, because she’s orchestrated this entire relationship thus far. It should bother her more than it does. “Again?”

 

“Veronica and I broke up,” he says casually, in the same manner one might discuss the weather, not the way one drops completely _world-shattering_ news. “Or, well, I guess we didn’t? I think I made a mistake.”

 

“Archie,” she sighs. She’s suddenly got a very good idea where this is going. “You are the terrible mistake.”

 

The walk to school in long, filled with several outbursts of yelling from Betty and several long interludes of groaning from Archie. They come to the agreement that Betty won’t tell Veronica anything he’s said if he breaks up with her in person, not over text like he had attempted the night before, before the day is over.

 

And he does.

 

It’s almost too public, taking place in the student lounge, all eyes on them. They both start crying. Betty drags Veronica away, and tells her to call her driver. Betty spends the night at Veronica’s, holding her as she shakes with every sob. Betty calls Archie after Veronica falls asleep, and tells him to take care of himself. Betty feels numb.

 

What happens now?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her fight or flight instinct is heavily leaning towards the flight side of things right now, but it’s squashed by her need to help Toni. So instead of focusing on the fact that _he_ is in her house, she takes a minute to greet the other three people who have just arrived, offering them a silent wave. Reggie hops up from the floor to crush her in a bear hug, while Sweet Pea and Fangs give her little half-nods, intent on smothering their best friend in warm affection.

 

“Guys,” Toni begins in a small voice, “all this for me?”

 

“We love you, Toni,” Betty says plainly. Toni hums.

 

“We can talk about it, if you guys want.”

 

Fangs shoots her a look. “Hey, no one’s forcing you if you’re not ready.”

 

“No,” Toni laces her fingers together, “I’m ready. As long as I get a little bit of space, if that’s okay.” Kevin, Sweets, Jug, and Fangs immediately vacate from the couch and assume seats on the floor. Reggie stands with Betty. She hasn’t had the chance to tell him about the fight, but it’s like somehow he can _sense_ that something’s up. Not for the first time this year, Betty feels a rush of gratitude towards her friends.

 

But this isn’t about her issues. It’s about Toni.

 

“So… I went over to Cheryl’s the other day.” She bites her lips. All of them hold their breath. “And… I kissed her.”

 

It’s what they’ve been waiting for. Everyone knows how the two girls have been pining over each other. But… How could it have gone so wrong?

 

“And I guess her parents came home from their business trip early? Because her mom walked in…” Oh, God. In that moment, Betty knows exactly what’s happened.

 

“Her mom started screaming about us being ‘deviants’, or whatever.” Toni stops to wipe her nose on her sleeve. “Cheryl shoved me backwards and started crying. Her mom stormed out after that, and then… then she said…” Toni sniffles. “She told me to get out. She said she never wanted to see me again.”

 

“Oh, Toni,” Betty breathes, hurting for her friend. Toni looks so tiny and vulnerable on the couch, and when she looks up with watery eyes, her heart breaks for her friend all over again.

 

“What do I do now, Betty? What do I do without her?”

 

“Hopefully, you won’t ever have to find out.” It’s not Betty who says this. It’s Cheryl. She’s a mess, standing in the doorway, her support group close behind. “Hi, TT. Can we talk?”

 

 

 

 

 

“Betty, can we talk?” She almost jumps at the suddenness of the question, but she relaxes because it’s Veronica. She trusts Veronica with her whole heart.

 

“Of course, V, what’s up?”

 

“Listen, I overheard you and Kevin this morning.” Her blood freezes over. She and Kevin had been talking about her not-so-secret crush this morning.

 

“Veronica…”

 

“I’m flattered, I am,” she starts, and that’s never a good way to start. “And B, I care about you so much. Just—”

 

She wants to cry. “Just not like that.” Her tone is clipped. She’s never felt this hurt before. “I get it, V.”

 

That’s when Veronica grabs her hands. “But I could, one day. Wait for me?”

 

Oh, God. This is a nightmare. On the one hand, she knows that Veronica’s words are manipulative, that she’s basically saying, “Keep yourself available until it’s convenient for me to be with you.” On the other hand, she is so in love, and she doesn’t think twice before she says, “Of course.”

 

The two embrace. Betty’s heart burns inside her chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“They’ve been gone for a while,” Kevin worries, twisting his hands. “Should we—”

 

“No,” Reggie says firmly. “Let them work it out on their own.”

 

“Maybe I’ll just check in on them, see how it’s going,” Fangs starts to get up off the couch, but Sweet Pea tackles him.

 

“Absolutely not!”

 

It feels like hours. It feels like days. It feels like years, but finally, _finally_ , Toni and Cheryl descend the stairs, looking less tense.

 

“Did you work everything out?” Josie blurts, slapping a hand over her mouth directly after it slips out. The two share a secret glance, smiling, and intertwine their hands.

 

The room erupts into cheers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Veronica wastes no time, Betty thinks to herself, only slightly bitter. She doesn’t dare look at her, instead focusing on finishing her story. She’s glad the Blue and Gold offices are empty, for once. No one else needs to witness this.

 

“Surprised you’ve noticed in between dates with Reggie and Chuck.” Her voiced is tinged with hurt. She hears Veronica step closer.

 

“So you are mad.”

 

“I’m not mad, Veronica!” She throws her hands into the air out of frustration. “I’m just—”

 

“Disappointed?”

 

“Heartbroken,” she corrects. She imagines the wince that follows. “But that’s not on you, it’s on me.”

 

“I wish I could make it hurt less for you.”

 

“But you can’t, V.” She squeezes her eyes shut, sighing. “You know I can’t keep waiting for you while you jump between boys, right? It’s not healthy.”

 

“But—”

 

“I can’t, V,” she repeats, finally spinning around in her chair to look at her best friend. She half wants her to look as terrible as she sounds, but as always, Veronica’s appearance is impeccable. “And think about what would happen if we did date. Archie would feel awful.”

 

Veronica scoffs. “So?” But Betty knows she doesn’t mean it.

 

“You know what has to happen, right?”

 

“Enlighten me.”

 

And that’s when she makes the decision that will lead to their ultimate downfall. “No more dating for the three of us. No dating Archie, no dating each other. That way, no one gets hurt.” Veronica nods in agreement.

 

“Deal.” They do hug, but it leaves Betty feeling lighter. For now, at least.

 

The pain will come later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a school night, which is the only reason the Criminal Minds marathon transforms into a study session. The Cooper household is more alive than it’s been in months, and for that, Betty is eternally grateful.

 

“Refill on popcorn, anyone?” She asks, letting her inner hostess take charge. From the couch, Toni raises her hand.

 

“Us, please!”

 

“You know where the microwave is,” she teases.

 

Cheryl squawks in mock-outrage. “Excuse me, but my _girlfriend_ should not be forced to make her own popcorn! You offered it to all! Don’t discriminate against someone because they’re better-looking than you!”

 

Everybody laughs at that. “Aw, my _girlfriend_ is my hero,” Toni smiles dreamily.

 

“Girlfriend,” Cheryl repeats, unable to contain her grin.

 

“Girlfriend.”

 

“Girl—”

 

“Get a room,” Kevin complains. The room is in hysterics again, so Betty takes the chance to retreat to the kitchen.

 

“Hey, Betty, can we talk?” She stiffens.

 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Jughead.”

 

“I feel like there is.” She sighs, turning to make eye contact with him. He shifts, gazing at the ground, obviously uncomfortable.

 

“I know that some of what I said was… uncalled for—” He cuts her off.

 

“No, it wasn’t.”

 

“Yes, it was.” She glares at him, but there’s not heat behind it. He shrinks in on himself all the same.

 

“Tell me how I fix this. Please. I _miss_ you.” This whole thing is surreal to her. She and Jughead have been flip-flopping from enemies to friends to enemies again so fast it’s making her head spin, in ways that differ from the hunger and fatigue. She needs to get a grip. She needs to breathe. She needs—

 

“Jug, I need time.” It’s the honest answer, the one that hurts him more because there’s no quick fix to the situation. He flinches, but she presses on. “I want to believe you, I want everything to be fine, but—”

 

“I fucked up.” He smiles sourly. “Big time. And I’ve just gotta live with the consequences.”

 

“Kind of, yeah.”

 

He moves to walk away. She grabs his arm. “Jug…”

 

Their eyes meet. “Yeah?”

 

“I promise you I’m working on it. So don’t quit on me. Please.”

 

The smile she gets this time is real, genuine. “I would never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i miss the days of toni topaz being her own character and not just playing the role of cheryl's girlfriend. btw, i have more fics for this universe planned that will show exactly what went down this chapter from choni's pov! exciting exciting! extra long chapter for you guys this time, to make up for last chapter, sort of. stay tuned for more! <3 love you guys


	12. tempt my anxious mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's press week for the Blue and Gold, and Jughead strives to make things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *GRAPHIC CHAPTER*
> 
> (please be careful always when reading fics like this one. if you think this may affect you in a negative way, please check out the recap next chapter. thank you <3)
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "1957" by Milo Greene.

People aren't perfect, but Veronica and Archie are. At least, that's what Betty tells herself when her sixteenth birthday rolls around at the beginning of sophomore year and they throw her an impromptu party. It’s pink and cream and gold, and everybody’s laughing and clapping and smiling in her backyard. Archie had brought water balloons. Veronica had snuck in a few hard sodas. Mr. Andrews grilled burgers and hot dogs while talking to her mom about the upcoming school year.

 

It’s still awkward. The sunshine and celebration can’t erase the tension between her two best friends.

 

“I don’t know how to talk to him, B,” Veronica moans, plopping down on a deck chair, fanning herself with an _actual_ vintage fan she’d found while thrifting with Betty. For dramatic effect, of course. “Things are so different now.”

 

“It’s not that different.” She perches on the arm, pensive. “I mean, it’s still us three against all odds, right?”

 

Veronica’s eyes are soft and gentle, staring at her with all the pity one may give to a stray dog. Betty kind of hates it. “I hope so.”

 

And that makes her nervous more than anything. She wants a strong foundation, she wants forever. It feels like Veronica is four steps away from goodbye.

 

The sun eventually sets on a once sweet, now sour sixteen. Everyone goes home eventually. Everyone but Veronica and Archie, who, as uncomfortable as they are, grin and bear it for her. She wishes they wouldn’t. She wants them to talk to each other. They make s’mores around her fire pit instead. People aren't perfect, and the cracks start to show that day. Maybe they'd always been showing. Maybe Betty just hadn't wanted to see them.

 

She smiles a lovely, shiny Cooper smile. Veronica and Archie, if they even care, don't notice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She’s finally allowed to walk to school again, provided it’s with Kevin, but she finds she actually enjoys the morning commute with the gang. The best part is that they seem to enjoy her company, too. When she whines that she has to go in early to work on the paper, since the press deadline is this Friday, Reggie just grins at her and tells her he’ll be at her house extra early. She gets in the car, and Kevin immediately switches the playlist from overly loud musicals to the quiet, acoustic pop songs that she typically listens to when she’s tired. Cheryl hands her a travel mug of coffee. She likely won’t drink much of it, as Cheryl seems to believe maple syrup is an adequate sweetener, but she appreciates the thought. Mostly. Toni notices her shivering, and lets her borrow her leather jacket. Cheryl pouts at that, but looks dreamy and faraway after Toni kisses her in apology. It’s honestly adorable.

 

She’s having such a good morning that it catches her completely off guard when Jughead slams a takeout container from Pop’s down on the table in front of her.

 

“You like waffles, right?” He asks, completely oblivious to the scare he’s just given her.

 

“Um… I guess?”

 

He scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just… I know we’ve got a deadline to meet, and if memory serves, you tend to forget to take care of yourself when you get stressed out, so I thought I’d pick us up breakfast this morning.”

 

It’s incredibly sweet of him, and that’s half the problem right there. She can’t trust that from him. “Thank you, Jug.” She pushes the container away from herself, like it’s just a little evil. “I already had breakfast today, though. You can have mine.”

 

He takes it back, thankfully, but he looks a little too suspicious for her tastes. “You never eat breakfast during press week. People used to bring you food all the time.”

 

Crap. He’s right, and because she’s been ignoring her problems lately instead of dealing with them, she’s caught in a lie. It’s a simple fact that Betty Cooper’s mind runs too fast, and that she rarely remembers that basic human necessities are an important part of her life. Before Veronica and Archie had cut ties with her, press weeks were typically filled with Pop’s waffles and Veronica’s high-quality espresso. When the two of them were dating, Kev would fill in with an assortment of homemade muffins. It used to be so ingrained in the routine that she eventually just stopped making breakfast for herself during press, period. She never had to worry. Her friends had her back.

 

Of course, she’s been keeping up different lies to different people for a while now, so she was bound to slip up. Kevin and Toni thinks she’s got a nasty stomach bug as of right now. Ethel and Dilton may question her from time to time, but she can usually get by with the age old excuse of “I’m not hungry.” Reggie and Josie are usually too wrapped up in a careful dance to notice that she hasn’t eaten in front of them in forever. Cheryl of course, knows, and is usually the worst about needling her. She’s been less intense since she and Toni got together last week, though, which is nice. And as much as she loves Valerie and Melody, Tina and Ginger, and Sweet Pea and Fangs, they aren’t around her nearly enough to realize that something is wrong.

 

She quickly covers with, “Toni brought me breakfast in the car.” She pats herself on the back for that one. It’s a nice save.

 

But his brow furrows further, and she realizes she should have said Cheryl, or Reggie, or Kevin, or Ethel, or hell, even _Dilton_ , because Toni is Jughead’s _best friend_. Of course he knows her better than she does. Of course she’s dug herself a deeper hole. Of fucking course. “Toni forgot to make herself breakfast this morning. I know that for a fact because she texted me to bring her something, too. What’s up, Cooper?” She flinches. _Cooper_. Jughead picks up on it, and immediately tries to correct his mistake. “Shit, no, _Betty_ , I just meant—”

 

“What you meant,” she hisses as she staggers up from her seat, vision white around the edges, “is to leave me the hell alone, Jones. I don’t want your pity. I don’t _need_ it.”

 

She exits in a huff. It’s dramatic, sure, but that’s just how her life has been lately.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

Betty is tired. When did everything get so damn complicated?

 

 

 

 

 

 

She and Archie have a secret meeting place that Veronica doesn’t know about, and it used to make her feel giddy. Now it makes her feel guilty.

 

“She’s just so… so…”

 

“Frustrating?” Betty offers. It’s how she feels, too. She swings her legs out, kicking at the leaves, watching them fall to the ground below. The tree house, not as strong as it used to be, creaks with their combined weight.

 

Archie huffs. “Yeah.”

 

“You should talk to her. I think she misses you.”

 

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that?” Archie snaps. Then he sighs. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. You’re just trying to help.”

 

“It’s okay,” she whispers, even though it’s not, even though the two of them have used her as their common ground, their buffer, their mediator, their punching bag, even though Betty is ripping apart and losing her mind trying to keep it all together for the two of them. “It’s okay, Arch, I understand.”

 

He grabs her hand. Her breath hitches. “You’re my best friend.”

 

She nods, staring out at the street. “And you’re mine.”

 

They stay quiet, and they listen to the birds. Betty wishes she could fly far, far away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The worst part of press week is that she cannot avoid the journalism room, no matter how much she wants to. She has to get her shit done so that the paper can come out on time. She doesn’t really sleep Monday night. She can’t. She’s got work to do, so much work to do, and Jughead knows he knows _he knows_ —

 

Her morning run starts at four in the morning. Reggie practically carries her to her classes, she’s so worn out. Toni and Kevin have to shoulder her as her feet drag, her eyelids flutter, her breathing gets slower and heavier. She stumbles into her chair, collapsing at her desk with no more grace than a newborn giraffe.

 

“Wow.” She doesn’t acknowledge him. Her head slumps down. Her friends carry on a conversation like she’s not in the room.

 

“She won’t talk to us.”

 

“Should we call her mom?”

 

“Yeah, that’d end well.”

 

“I’ll ask my dad to drive back to school and pick the two of us up later. She can stay at mine. She’s got a drawer, so she won’t need to stop back home. Reggie usually picks me up first in the morning anyway.”

 

“Good thinking. She shouldn’t be along tonight. I’d invite her to mine, but I’m crashing at Sweets’s place right now.”

 

“And I highly doubt she wants to stay with me.”

 

“It’s settled, then.”

 

“So what do we do with her in the meantime?”

 

“Let her sleep for a while. I can keep an eye on her. Do you guys think you can handle her list? She’s in no state to run around the school and yell at administrators.”

 

“Aye aye, captain.” She hears the door open and close, soft as can be. She feels something drape around her shoulders. She smiles, albeit sleepily.

 

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

 

“You never have to thank me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

To celebrate the end of summer, Veronica demands she and Betty spend some time down by the bank of Sweetwater, sans Archie. She wants to argue, but she’s losing her will to start unnecessary fights. There are enough to keep track of as it is.

 

“He’s just… unbelievable.” Veronica rolls her eyes for emphasis and adjusts her bralette strap. Betty runs a thumb along the ridged scars in her palms.

 

“He misses you, V,” she tells her, remembering the way his face had contorted in the late afternoon light, remembering his bitter and sad expression and how he’d cuddled up next to her, desperate for affection wherever he could get it.

 

“Then why hasn’t he said anything?” She scoffs, throwing a rock into the river. It causes a splash, no technique to the throw whatsoever.

 

“Because you haven’t, either,” she says, skipping a smoother stone across the surface of the water. Three times, and then it falls in. “He wants to respect your space.”

 

Veronica must be uncomfortable, because she quickly switches the subject. “Okay, how do you do that?”

 

“What, the skipping?”

 

“Yeah,” her best friend nods decisively, “teach me how.”

 

They spend the rest of the day throwing pebbles in the water and pretending their problems don’t exist. Life could be worse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty hates Wednesdays. Specifically, Wednesdays of press week. She never has enough time to get all her homework done and she ends up pulling all-nighters and shehas to stay at school until nine for mini-press night. Thank the lord the rest of staff does, too, so it’s not just her and Jughead, alone in a quiet room and marking up papers with red pen.

 

Toni buys them all Thai food, and somewhere along the line, Sheriff Keller brings them coffee. She kisses him on the cheek ingraciousness.

 

It never fails, however. Towards the end of the night, the only people left in the Blue and Gold office are her and Jughead. It’s close to eleven, at this point, and Betty wants to tear her own hair out. She still has sixteen pages of history notes due tomorrow, and she can’t for the life of her decipher just what her statistics teacher expects on this worksheet.

 

“Ugh,” she grunts. Jughead, who’s half-buried in a pile of stories, glances up at her.

 

“Stat homework?”

 

She groans. “My head is fuzzy. Do you think I can skip class tomorrow and just hide out in here?”

 

He looks surprisingly sympathetic. “As good as that sounds, you know Weatherbee’ll revoke our press passes if we use them for personal reasons during press week, right?”

 

“Of course he will,” she mutters. It’s their greatest time of stress, and of course their principal has them under strict surveillance. Because what other things does he have to worry about, besides the journalistic integrity of a few high school students?

 

“Need any help?” He offers. She mulls it over for a few seconds. Is she mad at him? Yes. But she also cannot make out the numbers on the page in front of her.

 

“Hit me with your best shot.”

 

He scoots closer to her so he can see the paper. “Okay, so to test for significance—“

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is it deceitful? Yes, and maybe Betty would feel bad about it if she felt like she had another choice.

 

Veronica had gotten to Pop’s first, which was what she’d been betting on, because then Veronica has to go touch up her makeup before they order. Archie’s always late, so it’s almost too easy to trick them to hang out with her at the same time. Veronica’s coming out of the bathroom just as Archie’s entering the diner. They both stop dead in their tracks, staring at each other like they’re the only two people in the world.

 

“Don’t be mad,” is the first thing she says. And of course, the first thing her best friends do is round on her.

 

“What the hell, Betty?”

 

“B, this was so not your call to make!”

 

“I don’t care,” she says firmly. It stops them both short. “I love you both dearly, but you’re too damn stubborn to woman up and fix this, so I’m doing it for you. Now we are going to sit down and have lunch, and we will have at least five minutes of small talk, and it is going to be amiable.”

 

Archie sits down. After another minute of hesitation, a standoff between the forces of B and V, Veronica sits down, as well.

 

It’s awkward. But it’s a step.

 

She’ll take what she can get.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her mother is chasing down a lead in… what was it? Centerville? Seaside? She can’t keep track anymore. However, just because Alice is out of town doesn’t mean Betty is at all exempt from Thursday night dinners whatsoever. At least, that’s what Jughead tells her when she’s packing up her backpack to go home.

 

“He’s making spinach manicotti, I think,” he mentions as they make their way to his bike. She frowns slightly.

 

“That’s my favorite.”

 

“I know.” He shakes his head. “I told him.” Then he puts his helmet on her head and helps her on to the seat. They drive off into the night.

 

She doesn’t ask questions. She’s not sure she’s ready for answers.

 

FP pulls her in for a warm hug. She helps Jughead set the table and she pulls the garlic bread out of the oven when it’s ready. They sit down at the table and make idle conversation.

 

It should be awkward. It is, in some sense. But at the same time…

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

She feels safe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“He looks lonely.”

 

Veronica groans. “Oh my god, not this again.”

 

“I’m serious, look at him! Where are his friends?” Betty gestures. Jughead has somehow accomplished the somewhat impossible task of eating a burger sadly. She feels bad for him.

 

“Well, the debate team has an invitational in New York, which is where I assume Toni and Fangs are. And Sweet Pea’s with the football team, most likely. They have an away game in Seaside. That’s where Archiekins is, B, remember?” Veronica sets a gentle hand on her wrist, which tightens its grip immediately following her next words.

 

“We should invite him over here.”

 

“Are you insane?! Betty, he’s terrible to you!”

 

She winces, retracting her arm to rub at the new bruises. “Not always!”

 

Veronica narrows her eyes. “Really?”

 

“V—”

 

“You’re too nice, B,” Veronica tells her in a very no-nonsense way. “This is a lesson. You can’t just let people walk all over you like this. People will start taking advantage of your kindness!”

 

Betty bites her lip. Oh, the irony. Instead, she says, “Okay, V.”

 

They eat the rest of their lunches in silence. Jughead leaves halfway through the period, emptying his tray into the trash.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday night, while all of her friends are running around town, partying and celebrating their youth, she and Jughead are holed up in their office, sifting through pages and pages of stories, trying to check names and catch errors before they ship off the paper for printing.

 

They work in sync. Betty flips through, marking every page with stickers once she’s sure it’s free of any mistakes. Jughead enters them into the computer, saving files to the pen drive for the Register once they’ve been approved. They’re done by nine.

 

“Mom’s out of town, so you can drop me off at the office. I’ll talk to Regina at the counter, she should get the copies printed for Monday distribution—” Betty cuts herself off with a yawn.

 

“How about I take this to Regina,” Jughead says, snatching the pen drive away from her, “and you go home and pass out?”

 

She’s not complaining. “Okay,” she mumbles. “Okay.” She buries her face into his shoulder, and slowly, they walk towards the parking lot. The door shuts softly behind them.

 

 

 

 

 

They win the game against the Baxter Ravens. Archie scores the final touchdown. Betty whoops. Veronica launches herself at her ex, wrapping him in an inescapable hug.

 

“Alright, break it up, you two!” Coach Kleats shouts. Carefully, Archie sets her down.

 

“So…” Veronica trails off.

 

“So?” Archie quirks a brow at her.

 

Betty loops an arm around each of them. “She wants you to come to Pop’s with us, Arch. She misses you.”

 

Veronica gapes at her for revealing her vulnerability. “Betty!”

 

Archie grins. Finally, something _normal_. “Sure.”

 

Veronica slowly breaks out into a beam. Betty giggles.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

For the first time since the break-up, Betty has hope.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jughead takes her home. She’s dead on her feet, soon to be dead to the world. This week has tested her, and she’s going to spend the next two days curled up under the covers, possibly binge watching New Girl, but likely just sleeping off the stress.

 

“Get some rest, okay?” She nods carefully. Jughead gives her a hug before she traipses up the porch steps. They’re not okay, not quite yet, but this week has been a big step forwards.

 

She’s almost too tired to notice. Almost. She takes off her shoes and locks the door behind her, and then she hears it. There’s a thump that comes from the kitchen. And though she’s seen the B-list horror movies, she’s still stupid enough to call out, “Hello?” There’s some quiet shushing after that, only serving to make her more nervous. Then…

 

“Hi!” Toni jumps out from around the corner, and Betty nearly has a heart attack.

 

“What the fuck!” She cries out. Toni has the decency to look sheepish.

 

“Sorry, B.”

 

Betty shakes it off. “It’s fine, you just scared me.” And then she gets suspicious, so she says, “Hey, Toni, not to be rude, but… what are you doing in my house?”

 

“Don’t worry, we got permission from your mom,” Toni replies, waving her off. “FP called her.”

 

“Oh, good,” she sighs. Then it hits her. “Wait. _We_?”

 

The lights flicker on. Reggie, Cheryl, Kevin, Ethel, Sweet Pea, Fangs. She covers her mouth with her hands.

 

“Honesty time, Nightmare Smurfette,” Cheryl says, stepping up. “It stops now.” The look her cousin gives her is telling. It’s time to come clean. About everything.

 

… Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU FOR NOMINATING THIS FIC FOR AN AWARD THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME A REASON TO GET BETTER AT WRITING THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME SMILE AND THANK YOU FOR BEING WONDERFUL! I LOVE YOU ALL A LOT <3<3<3


	13. no more dreams where we pull through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have to get better eventually, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *GRAPHIC CHAPTER*
> 
> (please be careful always when reading fics like this one. if you think this may affect you in a negative way, please check out the recap for this chapter and the previous one next chapter. thank you <3)
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "The Things We Used To Share" by Thomas Sanders.

A loud crash from downstairs has Betty turning to Cheryl, glaring. “Shouldn’t you go check on him?”

 

Her cousin doesn’t falter. “I’m sure Reggie can handle it.”

 

Kevin and Toni exchange a look. Finally, Toni stands. “I should… make sure Reggie knows where the cereal is. I left Ethel in charge of cartoons, if you want to come downstairs and join us, Betty?”

 

“I’m not hungry.” She meets Toni’s gaze, chin out, defiant. Toni sighs.

 

“That’s… yeah, okay. Fangs and Sweets’ll be back soon with groceries. I should help put them away.” Toni leaves, shutting the door behind her. Cheryl makes a frustrated noise.

 

“Stop being a bitch, Betty.”

 

“Stop being a control freak, Cheryl,” she parrots. Kevin throws a pillow at her.

 

“Stop being a bitch, Betty!” His volume rises. Betty winces. “We’re worried about you! So I’m sorry if you want to continue self-destructing, but we’re not going to let you, because we fucking care about you!”

 

“I didn’t ask for you to care about me!” She screams. “I was just fine on my own!”

 

“No, you weren’t.” Cheryl rubs her eyes. She looks as tired as Betty feels. She’d stayed up all night to ensure that Betty didn’t try to run. Betty had stayed up all night waiting for Cheryl to fold. “This is all my fault. I should’ve forced you to get help when I found out.”

 

“Cheryl, no,” Kevin protests. “This isn’t on you. We all should’ve picked up on it.”

 

“It’s no one’s fault but mine,” Betty says quietly. They both snap around to meet her eyes. Betty sighs. “I’m sorry I’m such a disaster. You guys don’t deserve this.”

 

“No, hey.” Kevin grabs her hand. “We love you, Betty.” Betty shuts her eyes and tries not to cry. “I know it’s hard to believe, but you’re so deserving of love. We all go through rough patches. We all have our own issues. That doesn’t make us weak. That makes us human.”

 

“I’m broken,” she whimpers. “I hurt people.”

 

“You also help people,” Cheryl murmurs, bringing her close to her chest. Betty tucks her face into the crook of her cousin’s neck. “You’ve done so much for everybody in this circle. You’re one of the kindest people in this town. It’s time we do something for you in return.”

 

“You don’t need to save me,” Betty whispers softly. Cheryl presses a kiss to her hairline.

 

“We’re going to try, though,” she says, “whatever it takes.”

 

Betty cries.

 

 

 

 

Summer begins with Betty sprawled across the roof, eyeing Archie’s window with a certain intensity. His curtains are drawn. Her heart aches. She hears her window open, feels a presence by her side.

 

“You can talk to me, if it’ll help.”

 

She sighs. She points to one of the constellations above her and her sister.

 

“Do you see that? Libra?”

 

“Yeah, Bettybear, I see it.”

 

She chews her lip, staring at the stars without blinking. “Do you think… Astraea was right? Giving up on humanity like that?”

 

“Betty,” Polly chides good-naturedly, “what are you talking about?”

 

“It’s just…” She tucks a loose curl behind her ear. “So in the legend, Astraea stays with the humans because she believes in them, right? She thinks deep down, they’re better than all the other gods think. But humankind is chaotic and destructive, and sometimes, they cause more harm than good.”

 

“Yeah…?” Polly nods, not sure where she’s going with this.

 

“Astraea gets fed up, right? I mean, who wouldn’t? So she leaves and goes back to the heavens and abandons humanity… but was that right? Should she have stayed, even though the humans she was trying to help started resenting her?”

 

“Betty,” Polly whispers. “You did the right thing.”

 

“Did I though?” She asks, voice muddled with tears. “They’re gone, Pol. I lost them. And now…” She stops to sniffle. “Now I’m alone.”

 

Polly links their pinkies together, still staring at the night sky above them. “You’re not alone, Betty,” she says, “you never are.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She doesn’t go downstairs for lunch, but she doesn’t argue and throw a fit when Sweet Pea and Fangs bring her vegetable lo mein from Moon Palace. The gang calls it progress.

 

“We texted Jug for your order,” Fangs says, as way of explanation.

 

“He’s coming over?” Her heart thumps painfully in her ears.

 

“Chillax, he knows you need your space.” Sweet Pea hands her a container. “Sure you don’t want to go watch Scooby Doo with the others?”

 

She swallows dryly. Her chest is aching. “I’m good here,” she says. “If you guys want to go, though, I’ll be fine—”

 

“Not gonna happen, Betts,” Fangs interrupts, popping a vegetable dumpling in his mouth.

 

“Okay.” She’s quiet for a second. She doesn’t finish her order, but she takes a couple bites. Progress.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

 

Summer begins the way it’s always began, with Betty starting on her summer homework. After that, it gets a little bit stickier.

 

See, the thing is, she’s used to not hanging out with her best friends for at least the first month of summer. They’re usually jet-setting off to Chicago or New York and leaving her by her lonesome self. It’s when the second month begins that Betty really can’t ignore the absences in her life anymore.

 

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

 

She flips to the next page. It’s a book on the colonization of America, a rather dry read, in her opinion. She’s got eight chapters of this one left, two essay prompts on the topic, three more books for English with essays that correspond to each of them, and a few dozen worksheets for math.

 

Suffice to say, she’s overwhelmed.

 

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

 

This time last summer, she’d had her papers strewn across the Lodge dining room table. This time last summer, Veronica had hovered over her shoulder, helping her with matrices for precalc, and Betty had been up to her neck in essay edits for Archie, and Archie had been gluing cutouts of past presidents to poster board for the history project. They’d finished the summer work less than a week into July.

 

It’s nearly August, and Betty’s made almost no progress.

 

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

 

“ _Shut up_!” She snarls, picking up the antique alarm clock Veronica had bought her years ago and throws it as hard as she can to the floor. It shatters into a million tiny pieces, and for a few seconds, all she can do is stare at it.

 

_Bits and pieces._

 

She bursts into tears.

 

 

 

 

 

Ethel walks in close to eight o’clock. Betty has to do a double take. “You have a date tonight.”

 

“I rescheduled. Dilly understands that some things are just more important.”

 

She shudders, shifting under her blanket. “Not this. Not me.”

 

“Of course you,” Ethel says, as if it’s not even a question, voice full of love. “You are worth it, Betty.”

 

She takes one of the bowls of spaghetti from her friend’s arms. “I’m sorry.”

 

There are so many things. Her behavior. Making Ethel miss her date. Just in general. Things have been rough on them all lately.

 

Ethel purses her lips. “I am, too.” Ethel’s sorry in a different way. Sorry that these things happen. Sorry that they had to happen to her.

 

Betty makes it through the whole bowl. She then proceeds to spend half an hour vomiting in the bathroom, with Ethel rubbing soothing circles on her back, crooning a gentle lullaby.

 

One step forwards, two steps back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blossom parties have never been Betty’s “thing”. In the past, she’d only ever gone as a third wheel, tacked on to the train wreck that was her best friends’ relationship. However, now she’s been invited specifically to Cheryl’s 4th of July bash by Cheryl herself, who usually can’t be bothered to give her the time of day. Betty is fairly wary.

 

“Lemme know if you want anything to drink, Invisible Woman! I’ll fix you up,” she winks, bringing Betty in for a vodka-scented hug before bouncing off to greet her other guests. Well, there go her plans of gluing herself to Chery;’s side for the night. She looks around for someone she knows.

 

“Hey, Cooper!” She flinches on instinct, but when she turns, it’s only Fangs, with Sweet Pea glaring from the wall. “Fancy seeing you here.”

 

She holds up a hand. “Okay,” she says roughly, “if we’re doing this, I need a drink.”

 

Sweet Pea slowly uncrosses his arms, pushing off the wall, grinning. “I knew I liked you.” He slaps a hand to her shoulder and steers her towards the kitchen.

 

She hangs with the two of them for the rest of the night. Jughead never shows, and Toni is somewhere trailing after Cheryl. They play a few rounds of beer pong. She downs drink after drink. At some point, her mascara starts running down her cheeks.

 

“Help her into a guest room,” she hears Cheryl say. “She’s sloppy drunk. She can stay here tonight.”

 

They help her into bed, tucking her in. She grabs at them when they try to leave. “Don’t leave me, too,” she whimpers.

 

“Ah, shit, Betty.” She feels them sit down on the bed.

 

“We’ll stay till you fall asleep,” Fangs says, draping another blanket over her. She smiles sleepily.

They’re gone in the morning, but Betty doesn’t feel quite so cold anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday morning, she makes it downstairs. Reggie looks ridiculous in his ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron, but the look of pure joy on his face makes the knots in her stomach return full-force. “You’re alive!”

 

She pulls him in for a warm side-hug. “Hey, Reg.”

 

“Blueberry for you, B.C. You do still like blueberry, yes?”

 

She nods, touched that he’s remembered. “Yeah, yeah, I do.”

 

“Great!” He grins. “Oh, before I forget! I didn’t know what you were in the mood for, so I made a toppings bar! Over here, we’ve got chocolate chips, sliced bananas, whipped cream—”

 

She cuts him off with another hug, burying her face into his shoulder. “Thank you, Reggie.”

 

He rests his chin on the top of her head. “Yeah, Betts. Of course.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty’s room is bleeding memories. Her mirror is lined with polaroids of her and her best friends. Her shelves overflow with books Veronica and Archie have written personal dedications in. Her walls are covered in posters of bands the three of them had seen in concert. Framed by her bed is a copy of the lyrics to the first song Archie ever wrote, and hanging on the back of her door is a watercolor yellow rose Veronica had painted for her birthday.

 

On her bed is a cardboard box. “Whatever you don’t need anymore goes in here, okay?” Polly had left it there, gaping and empty. She and the box have that in common.

 

 _Bits and pieces_.

 

Betty ties up her hair and gets to work. The box is filled. It gets left by the curb. Polly doesn’t comment on the contents, just closes Betty’s curtains and invites her to watch bad teen movies on the couch. They fall asleep to Cher’s first kiss with Josh.

 

Later, Betty will realize that Polly didn’t want her sleeping in her room, bare of the things that made it hers. It doesn’t matter much. Betty cries when they hit up the thrift shop for new decorations, seeing Veronica’s ghost running down the aisles, seeing Archie’s playing one of the vintage guitars.

 

They’re gone. What they used to have is, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everyone needs some fresh air, so they run out to Pop’s. Kev had run out an hour earlier to pick up orders for the two of them, and returns just as everyone else is running out the door. “Vanilla milkshake and a veggie burger, fries with extra ketchup.” He hands her a bag. “I would just like to say I find it extremely homophobic that Pop still has your order memorized, even though you haven’t been there is forever, and he still can’t figure mine out.”

 

She scoffs. “First of all, Pop is not homophobic, he adores you, it’s not his fault your order is so complicated—”

 

“It’s a hotdog, Betty—”

 

“Yeah, with like, eighty-four toppings!”

 

“It’s Chicago-style.”

 

“We live in New York.”

 

“Chicago-style is universal!”

 

“Sure, Jan.” Silence. They bust out laughing.

 

It takes a couple minutes, but eventually they settle down. Kevin looks at her, softly smiling. “I miss you.”

 

She furrows her brows. “I’m right here.”

 

“No, I mean I miss _you_ , Betty.” He shakes his head. “Veronica and Archie left and they took you with them.”

 

And she knows what he means. There isn’t a part of her that doesn’t miss them, doesn’t miss who she used to be. She’s hollow. A shell. “Yeah.”

 

Kevin squeezes her hand. “We can only do so much, B. We can stay over on weekends and bring you food, and we can watch you at school, but that doesn’t fix you. There’s only so much we can do. At best, this is a short-term solution.”

 

“So what, what are you saying?” She knows what he’s saying. She just needs to hear it out loud.

 

“I’m saying you need help, B.” Kevin’s smile turns sad. “Real, quality, professional help. You need to see someone.”

 

“I—”

 

He holds up a hand. “Just… think about it, okay? That’s all I’m asking.”

 

Think about it. She can do that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There he is. He’s right where he usually is, in their booth. “Arch.”

 

He jolts. In a flash, he’s out of the booth, headed for the exit. “Archie, _wait_!”

 

She grabs his arm. He wrenches away from her. “Leave me alone.”

 

“Wait, can we talk?” She sounds desperate, even to her own ears. The look Archie gives her is bone-chilling.

 

“No, Betty,” he says grimly, “we can’t talk. We can’t talk, we can’t hang out. We’re not friends.”

 

Her heart stops. “But—“

 

“God,” he laughs, and it cuts her to her core, “what’s it going to take to get it through your skull? Just go!”

 

Her vision’s blurring now, but she can still make out the shape that appears beside her ex-best friend.

 

“Archiekins, I— Oh. Betty. It’s you.”

 

This hurts. Granted, it hurt the first time they told her to go, but it hurts so much more more every time they say it. She clenches her fists and bites her lip. Finally, she stutters out, “I should go, huh?”

 

Hollowly, Veronica tells her, “I think that’d be best.”

 

So she leaves. She walks out of Pop’s, and she doesn’t stop walking till she’s sitting by the bank of Sweetwater River. She doesn’t stop crying until the rushing water lulls her to sleep.

 

This hurts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She’s back up in her room when Toni comes knocking, arms full of pizza poxes. “I come bearing gifts. Margherita for you, Hawaiian for me.”

 

She giggles, taking hers from Toni. “Still don’t understand how you can eat that vile thing,” she teases.

 

“Hey, I don’t judge you for being one of those weirdos who dips their fries in milkshakes,” Toni fires back, eyes twinkling.

 

“Yeah, because it actually tastes good!” She shoves her playfully. Then, she frowns.“Hey, I’m sorry I was so harsh yesterday. You didn’t deserve that. You were just trying to help.”

 

Toni waves her off, taking a slice from her box. “It’s okay, Betty.”

 

“It’s not, though.” Toni pauses, staring at her. Betty gulps. “I keep using what happened as an excuse to wallow and hurt the people who are still there for me. That’s not right. I’m so sorry.”

 

Toni nods carefully. “I accept your apology… if you accept this pizza.”

 

Betty grins. “I suppose.”

 

“Yay!” Toni claps. Betty giggles again, taking a bite. “So tell me… what’s going on with you and Jughead?”

 

She slows her chewing. “What are you talking about?”

 

“I don’t know, you two just… Things are different now. I see the way he way he looks at you.”

 

 _Everything’s different now_.

 

“Okay, you’re reading into things _way_ too much. He and I are literally just becoming friends again, there’s no way he likes me like that.”

 

“And what about you? Do you like him like that?”

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

“No!” She says too quickly, if the sinister smile on Toni’s face is anything to go by. “I mean, I like Jug, just… I don’t know, you know?”

 

Toni lifts her brows. “Well, that clarified things.”

 

“Okay, cut it with the third degree before I start asking about your intentions with my cousin,” she shoots back. Toni raises her hands in a placating gesture.

 

“Okay, I get it! Too far.” They’re quiet for a second. Toni tilts her head towards Betty’s laptop. “So… Criminal Minds?”

 

Finally, something normal. “Duh.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

It takes her all summer to work up the nerve to climb the old wooden ladder to the treehouse. Archie’s not there. Of course he’s not.

 

“What do I do now?” She murmurs. No answer. She tries again. “What do I do without you?”

 

The wind howls. There’s a distant rumble of thunder. It’s going to rain.

 

“Betty? Come inside!” Her mother. She bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut.

 

“I miss you, and I’m sorry.”

 

“Betty!”

 

“I’m coming!” She cries. She makes a move to shimmy down. She steps out onto the ladder. There’s a loud _crack_. She’s falling, falling…

 

She can’t breathe. She’s landed awkwardly. She’ll definitely be bruised tomorrow. She doesn’t really care. That won’t hurt nearly as badly as it does right now, staring at the current state of the ladder. Broken and mangled, it lays on the ground, leaving the tree house inaccessible.

 

“Betty!” Her mother’s getting impatient. She’s made lasagna in celebration of her sister, off to college.

 

She turns her back on the treehouse. There’s nothing left for her here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m sorry, Cher,” she says out of the blue over chocolate cake. They have school in the morning, and she feels incredibly guilty for making her cousin stay the night. “I don’t deserve your kindness.”

 

“Hush,” Cheryl laces their hands together. “Making mistakes is a human thing. I’ve made my fair share, and you’re still there for me.”

 

“Still.” Cheryl shrugs. It’s that moment that Betty makes a decision. “I talked to Kev. I can’t keep this up.”

 

“Glad you realized that.” Cheryl brings her in for a one-sided hug, rubbing her shoulder. “So what are you going to do?”

 

Betty lays her palms flat on the table and take a quick, deep breath. “I’m gonna get help.”

 

Cheryl lays one hand over one of Betty’s. “I’m proud of you.”

 

She meets her cousin’s eyes. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Cher?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Betty.”

 

Above all, she is loved. And though she may bleed, though she may break… Betty isn’t crying anymore.

 

It’s better. Things are better now.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW this is late... life is insane as of right now. I now work two jobs! That's crazy!
> 
> Not to worry, I still plan to update this whenever I can. That just might be a little infrequent.
> 
> I love you guys <3 Thank you for all the love!


	14. darling, my soul would heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything starts somewhere. Betty's road to recovery starts here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "Touch and Go" by Ed Sheeran.

Monday morning comes too soon, and Betty makes pancakes. It’s not a huge step, but Cheryl still wraps her in a warm embrace. They don’t have tons of time — after everything, they still have school — but the time they do have is spent at the dining room table. Reggie scarfs down most of the food, because he’s “bulking up for Friday’s game”. They mock him all the same. Kevin and Cheryl end up cleaning the kitchen, and Toni makes Betty a protein shake, because a few bites of breakfast aren’t going to last her through cheer practice. Betty sits in the backseat, curled in between Cheryl and Toni. Reggie and Kevin smile fondly in the rearview mirror’s reflection.

 

Sweets, Fangs, and Jug are waiting for them when they get to school. Jughead offers his arm to her in a silly, over-the-top way. And Betty, for once, simply takes it, no overthinking. If Jughead is surprised, he doesn’t let it show.

 

“Milady.” He grins at her. She beams back.

 

“My good sir.” He tilts his head at her, and she copies the movement. “What?”

 

“Nothing, just…” He shakes his head, laughing breathlessly. “I like you happy.”

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

Her smile is brilliant and blinding. “Me too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What if we do a spotlight on Ethel? She does so much nonprofit work and it goes completely unrecognized.”

 

Jughead nods. “Great suggestion, Kev. She can be our focus feature. We’ll put her next to the alumni spotlight. It’s Mayor McCoy this cycle, right?”

 

“Yeah, but…” Betty makes a face. “It’s probably best if we don’t cover Dilton’s robotics internship this issue. It’ll look like a conflict of interest. Can we make that a web story?”

 

“Problem is replacing the scitech story. I didn’t get many good planners this cycle.” Trev winces, and the entire editorial board suddenly looks much more stressed.

 

Tuesday morning editors’ meetings are one of the best parts of the Blue and Gold experience, in Betty’s humble opinion. They give the staff a chance to plan, a chance to take a breath from the high stress of a typical cycle of press. They’ve got a full itinerary, and for once, Betty and Jughead are on the same page. Five pages of news, three of entertainment, two of opinion, three of sports, the features pullout, one page of scitech, two of humor, and of course, a page of focus. Almost everything has already been outlined. Everything except…

 

Betty kind of, sort of, maybe has an idea. “What if we do a study of mental health at Riverdale High? We can do an anonymous poll, talk to the school nurse and the guidance counselor, maybe get a teacher perspective…” And here’s where things get iffy. “I could give a personal account of my own struggles. You know, document the road so far, my diagnosis, the path to recovery and all of that.”

 

The expression on Jughead’s face is unreadable. The expression on Trev’s is too easy to read. “Wow, Betty. That’s actually… amazing. Are you sure you want to—”

 

“Trev,” she cuts him off, “would I have suggested it if I didn’t want to write this story?” Toni laces her fingers with Betty’s. She squeezes gently. Betty’s grateful for the reassurance.

 

“I’ll help write it,” Toni pipes up. “It can be a contribution piece. I can do the administrative interviews.”

 

“I’ll do some cool graphics for the spread,” Kevin chimes in.

 

“Maybe I could conduct the polls. I’ll talk to the English teachers about passing them out tomorrow.” She and Jughead make eye contact. He nods at her.

 

They have her back. The warmth spreads through her chest.

 

“Okay,” Trev grins. “Let’s get to work.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So… therapy?” Jughead takes her books from her. She chews her lip thoughtfully.

 

“I called my mom. She scheduled me a session for next week.” She turns to Jughead, then. He doesn’t look puzzled.

 

“That takes guts,” he tells her, “admitting something like that. I’m proud of you.” Then, more nervously, “Not that I think you need my approval, or—”

 

“Jug,” she murmurs. He stops, eyes cast down. That won’t do. She acts on impulse alone, tiptoeing up to cup his cheek and place a gentle kiss on the side of his face. She lowers herself slowly, smiling lightly at the dark red flush of Jughead’s skin. “Thank you.”

 

He makes a choked-off noise. “For?”

 

 _Isn’t it obvious by now?_ Betty says, “For being my friend.”

 

His answering grin stays stuck to his face for the rest of the walk to class.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Betty only really registers that the front door is being opened Wednesday night when it’s followed by a soft utterance of, “Bettybear?”

 

“Pol?” She scurries out of the living room. In the doorway is her sister, all kindness and light. Her heart feels like it’s floating. “You’re home!”

 

“Just through Sunday, but… Oh!” She’s cut off by an armful of Betty, who clings to her like it’s been years since they’ve seen each other instead of a couple of months.

 

“I missed you.”

 

Polly returns Betty’s hug in equal measure. “I missed you, too.” They stay like that for a while, both pairs of blue-green eyes slightly misty. Cooper girls reunited are an emotional breed. Polly wipes her eyes quickly with the sleeve of her cardigan, and claps her hands together. “So, catch me up! What have I missed?”

 

Betty pauses. _Where to begin?_ “Well…”

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday morning, Jughead looks more ruffled than usual, and it’s easy to guess why. “Cheryl’s making me throw this thing next week for my birthday.” Jughead groans, thunking his head against his locker. Betty laughs, swatting his shoulder.

 

“What were you expecting? Any excuse for a celebration.” She grabs his arm and throws it around her shoulder, tucking herself neatly into his side. He brings her closer, ever so slightly.

 

“I barely tolerate Cheryl. What part of this seems like a good idea?”

 

She rolls her eyes and bites back a smirk. “Whatever, Jug. You’ve got no one fooled with the loner act.”

 

He makes a noise of offense. “What makes you think it’s an act?” She looks pointedly at his arm, then back to him. He blushes. “Okay, I yield.”

 

“So who’s coming to this thing? Am I invited?” She means it more as a joke. It’s playful, not serious, but the heartbroken look in Jug’s eyes makes her stop in her tracks. “Juggie? What’s the matter?”

 

“Of course you’re invited, Betts,” he says, softer than she’s ever heard him sound. “You know that, right?”

 

She grabs his hand and laces their fingers, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “I know,” she whispers.

 

“Seriously,” he says, twirling her around to face him, tilting up her chin, “you know I care, right? And that I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

 

“Jug,” she sighs quietly, “I don’t hate you either.” His eyes are shiny and wet with relief. She continues, “There’s nothing to forgive anymore. You and I, we’re okay. No bad blood, no more grudges… We’ve more than made up for everything. We’re okay.”

 

“I don’t deserve you,” he breathes. She giggles.

 

“No, you don’t!” He laughs, too, ducking his head so his curls fall in his face. “But I don’t care.”

 

There’s an outbreak of shouting down the hall, around the corner. They both turn in sync. “What’s going on?” She shakes her head, pulling Jug down the hall. And the sight that greets them…

 

Betty screams.

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Friday, everyone’s talking about Reggie and Archie. How Archie was shit-talking Betty. How Reggie had warned him to back off. How the majority of the team had sided with their captain. How Archie had kept going. How Sweet Pea had threatened him, and how Reggie had held him back, had told him to walk it off, had told him it wasn’t worth it. How Archie had said, “Listen to him, Sweets. Betty’s not worth it.” How Reggie had floored him with a single right hook, a murderous look in his eyes. How Reggie had said, “Betty Cooper is worth the world and more.”

 

On Friday, everyone is talking about Betty. How she’d marched into Weatherbee’s office, Reggie and Sweet Pea in tow. How she’d dragged the two by their ears, yelling at them the entire way there. How she’d campaigned against the Archie supporters in administration with a righteous fury, burning everything she had built of his golden boy reputation from the past thirteen years. How all but a few Bulldogs had told the same story, painting Reggie and Sweets as the shining knights and Archie as a pig. How Jughead had burst in with his press pass, with wild eyes that hadn’t mellowed until they’d met Betty’s.

 

On Friday, everyone is whispering about Archie Andrews getting suspended. How he’d locked eyes on Betty’s retreating form and cursed her out. How he’d been forcibly removed from the hallway. How Betty had been caught in a crushing group hug with the football team, before being caught in a smaller, softer hug with Reggie and Sweets, before being escorted away by Jug.

 

On Friday, the Vixens are buzzing with the news that Archie Andrews had been suspended, just before the big game. One particular Vixen isn’t taking it too well.

 

“You bitch!” It’s the first thing Betty hears when she opens the locker room door. The first thing she sees is one Veronica Lodge, not yet changed, stalking towards her in six inch heels.

 

And Betty is so damn tired. She’s tired of crying and grieving and missing her friends. She’s tired of being a mess, tired of longing for people who didn’t care about her, and now she knows the difference between being used and being loved. She has people in her life who don’t use toxicity to cope with everything. She has friends.

 

Veronica doesn’t care about her. Archie doesn’t care about her.

 

But Cheryl cares. Kevin cares. Toni cares. Reggie cares. Ethel cares. Fangs and Sweet Pea care. Josie and Val and Mel care. Tina and Ginger care.

 

So Betty straightens. Betty smiles. And Betty says, “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you need something, Veronica?” Cheryl, who had gotten up from a split to come to Betty’s rescue, stalls. She looks impressed.

 

Veronica, however, bristles, eyes on fire. “You got Archiekins suspended.”

 

She taps her chin. “Did I now? And how exactly did I manage that?”

 

“You’re a pathetic liar,” Veronica snarls, “that’s how.”

 

“You’re one to talk, Lodge,” Cheryl steps in, hands on her hips. “Betty had nothing to do with your precious Ginger Judas getting barred from tonight’s game, and you know it.”

 

Veronica laughs harshly, and for all her earlier bravado, Betty can’t help but flinch. “What I know…” Veronica’s voice takes on a telltale lilt, and Betty backs herself against the door.

 

_You are a monster, Elizabeth Cooper. You’re worse than my father._

 

_I’m done being friends with someone who’s always looking for a way to sabotage me!_

 

_Watch out, Archiekins. Caliban Cooper, coming through._

 

_Then go._

 

_Wait for me?_

 

“… is that Betty Cooper deserves nobody’s love.”

 

Betty forgets to breathe. Cheryl blinks. “Get out.”

 

One brow perfectly arched, Veronica goes, “Excuse me?”

 

“You heard me.” Betty feels a hand on her shoulder. Tina shoots her a worried glance, but Betty’s more focused on Cheryl, who’s jabbing a finger at Veronica and saying,”Get the hell out of here. You’re off the squad.”

 

Veronica sneers. “You can’t kick me off. I’m the best one here.”

 

“I don’t care who you think you are. This squad is a team. We only run smoothly when we work together. You insulting another girl, making her feel unsafe, is counter-productive, and frankly, just a plain shitty thing for you to do. So you’re off.” Behind the HBIC, Josie mimes a mic drop.

 

“And everyone is fine with you playing dictator?” V sounds manic now. Betty lowers her gaze to the ground.

 

“Fine. Majority rules. All in favor of ousting the evil queen?”

 

Betty can’t look. She can’t breathe. She can’t stop shaking. Tina’s hand is the only thing grounding her.

 

She hears Veronica screech.

 

“You heard the handmaidens, duchess of the damned,” Cheryl drawls. “Begone.”

 

Tina wraps Betty in a full-bodied hug, and Betty tucks her head into the crook of her friend’s neck.

 

She doesn’t look up until she hears the gym doors slam shut.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

It’s over, isn’t it?

 

 

 

 

 

 

They’re missing one of their supposed best players but you’d never be able to tell. The Bulldogs are kicking ass.

 

“We’re blue and gold! We’re dynamite! We’ll take you down! And fight the fight!” The Vixens look great, too, showing off their totally killer routines. From the top of the pyramid, Cheryl finishes the cheer. “Go Bulldogs!”

 

It’s not even close when Sweet Pea scores the final touchdown in the last few seconds of the game. 34 - 6. And before Reggie and Moose and the rest of the team can carry him to the locker room in victory, Fangs is jumping down and sprinting across the field towards Sweets, toppling him to the ground in a searing kiss. The stands erupt into cheers.

 

Betty’s smile could split her face in two and she wouldn’t care at all.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

Happy. So unbelievably happy.

 

 

 

 

 

“You know, I could’ve run on the field, too, but I, at least, have some restraint,” Kevin says pointedly, taking a very judgmental sip of his milkshake. Moose, arm slung around him, laughs loudly, and Kevin preens from the attention.

 

Fangs just shrugs. “Eh, I make no apologies.” Sweet Pea kisses his forehead gently.

 

Cheryl turns back around from poking fun at the two happy couples to her booth with Toni, Betty, and Jughead, pouting. “I may vomit.”

 

“Objectively, babe, we’re much worse,” Toni says, holding up their intertwined hands as example.

 

Cheryl sighs in exasperation, but immediately straightens in a very businesslike fashion. “Moving on! Though I usually loathe the quaintness of the Twilight, it has come to my attention that Jughead and I have much to discuss regarding his party next Friday. That’s why I’m proposing a group outing to the horror-thon tomorrow night.”

 

Toni, of course, nods in agreement. “I’m game.”

 

“Us too!” Kevin calls from where he’s nestled next to his boyfriend.

 

“Why not?” Jughead caves, which honestly surprises her.

 

“Sounds fun!” Sweet Pea and Fangs raise their hands, clasped together. It’s comical, this new rivalry between Toni and Cheryl, Sweet Pea and Fangs for the cutest, sappiest couple. Betty loves it.

 

With agreement from those in close vicinity, Cheryl takes that as a sign to collect votes from the rest of their friends, piled into various booths inside the diner. She comes back with an unanimous favorable vote. “I guess that’s settled then. Unless… Betty, will you be coming?”

 

Maybe it’s the comfort, the company, the warmth she feels in this particular moment. Maybe it’s residual positivity from the rest of this week. Maybe it’s Jughead, staring at her with round, hopeful eyes. Or maybe it’s this niggling feeling in her gut, the knowing sense that her first step to recovery needs to happen at some point.

 

Whatever the reason, Betty smiles and tells Cheryl, “I’ll be there.” And strangely? There isn’t a single part of her that doubts it was the right decision.

 

Maybe it’s just faith in the people in her life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Mom gets home tomorrow,” Polly tells her. Betty finishes chewing a bite of her apple, nodding slowly.

 

“I know. I invited Juggie and FP over for dinner tomorrow night to surprise her.” Polly raises a brow.

 

“Juggie?” Betty flushes scarlet. Polly laughs. “Don’t worry, Betty, I won’t tell.”

 

“I don’t like him,” she says defensively. Polly presses her lips together to hold back her smile.

 

“Sure, Betty,” she says innocently.

 

She rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t say anything more. She doesn’t need to know if she likes Jughead right now. Healing takes time, and more than she’s healing for Cheryl, for Kevin, for Toni, for Reggie, for Ethel, for Sweet Pea, Fangs, Josie, Val, Mel, Tina, Ginger, Dilton, Moose, for her mother and her sister, for Jughead… She’s healing for herself.

 

_What do you feel, Betty?_

 

That’s the wonderful thing. She doesn’t have to know right now. She has time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The horror-thon was, like all things in her past life, something she used to go to with Veronica and Archie, curled up in the back of Fred Andrews’ beat-up truck. Now, she’s laughing in the car with Kevin and Cheryl and Toni and Reggie, and it feels like she’s never smiled this wide in all her life.

 

“Hey, can I borrow Betty for a second?” She looks up from her spot on Toni’s lap to see Jughead.

 

Cheryl points a manicured finger at him. “Have her back soon, serf. And don’t think you’re getting out of party planning. I don’t forget.”

 

Jughead salutes her. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” He holds out a hand for Betty. “We’ll get snacks first, before we go.”

 

Betty takes the assistance, and leans into him as they make their way to the counter. “I’m cool with that.”

 

And it’s funny, really, that when they get there, Veronica and Archie are just leaving. The universe truly has the worst timing.

 

But Jughead tugs her along, and she’s so focused on trying to keep up with him that whatever jab they try and throw her way gets lost Maybe it would have kept her attention for the rest of the night, but Jughead steals it when he says, “I’m gonna get a burger and fries. Oh, and a Coke. You?”

 

She scoffs. “You can’t watch a movie without popcorn.” He laughs.

 

“That’s fair. Okay, one large popcorn. Anything else, Your Highness?”

 

She considers it for a moment. “Maybe some licorice? And a Coke, too, if that’s okay.”

 

He nods, grinning at her. “I think we can make that happen.”

 

And okay, sure, she doesn’t eat everything. It’s still an internal war with herself every time she takes a bite of something. But Jughead doesn’t dwell on it. He takes her into the projector booth to show her the behind the scenes, and she’s completely enthralled. They split their haul, with Jughead finishing whatever Betty leaves untouched.

 

So yeah, Betty’s not better. She’s still struggling to be okay, to heal, to make progress. It’s not immediate, and one good week does not mean there won’t be low points. But when she looks at Jughead in the projector’s light, when she thinks of her friends and all they’ve done for her, when she thinks of where she is right now, all of the worry she still has fades to white noise. Because right now, at this moment, she is safe, she is okay, she is loved.

 

And that is more than enough.

 

 

 

 


	15. you waited smiling for this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a storm rolling in. Maybe it’s time to be honest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "Burned Out" by Dodie Clark.

_The beginning of the end starts with…_

 

Betty is, really and truly, having the worst week. She can’t focus and tensions are rising in the Blue and Gold staff and _God forbid_ she miss practice, even if she really could use the extra time to study. She’s waiting for Veronica and Archie outside the cafeteria. They’re late, which is becoming more and more of a regular thing. Tears of frustration are bubbling to the surface. She takes a quick breath in. Everything will be okay when her friends get here. It has to be.

 

“So Veronica said she and Archie will meet up with us later, but fifty bucks says they forget about us and go make out in an empty classroom,” Kevin says, guiding her with him into the cafeteria. She stops, closing her eyes.

 

“Not funny, Kev. They’re still super sore about that.”

 

He shrugs. “Sorry. Just thought that since they’re dating again, it didn’t matter.”

 

Betty straightens. “What did you just say?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today is not a good day. She wakes up, and deep down she knows that no matter what is said and done today, she is going to feel _off_.

 

Her friends notice, because her friends are amazing people who love her, and she loves them fiercely. They say nothing in the morning, letting her have the quiet. She’s grateful, but she still isn’t at 100%. They don’t push.

 

When midday rolls around, she sequesters herself away in the journalism room to work on the story. Her part is coming… slowly. She’d talked to Dr. Patel about it, and he’s all for it. He did tell her it might take some time. She sighs at the blank document in front of her. Her skin is crawling. She’s going to scream.

 

“Lunch in here today?” Betty looks up to see her friends, an extra tray being balanced by Jughead. She half-laughs, half-sobs. They take it as an invitation to come inside and settle in.

 

“Everything okay, Betts?” Toni asks, squeezing her knee.

 

“It is now,” she tells them. It isn’t a lie.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Everything is fine._

 

They arrive at the same time, which is odd. A year ago, it would have been normal, but Betty isn’t supposed to know that they’re together, so it isn’t. But everything is fine, so she smiles her shiny Cooper smile and only laughs a tiny bit too loud at the joke that Archie cracks and her decision not to order anything is just because she’s dieting right now, shedding the weight Cheryl keeps telling her to lose, and _really guys, it’s nothing you need to worry about_.

 

_Everything is fine._

 

Veronica and Archie are just choosing to sit together to prove to Betty they’re friends again, that’s all. They’re sitting too close and they’re laughing nervously and it’s not true, because they would never lie to her.

 

_Everything is fine._

 

Kevin has to be wrong, he has to be. Sure, he’s a journalist, but even she gets it twisted sometimes. Besides, she set Veronica and Archie up. They’re the golden trio, the Three Musketeers, the envy of Riverdale. They’re _best friends_ , the very best. Veronica and Archie would’ve told her first.

 

_Everything is fine._

 

They made a pact. Veronica agreed. Archie agreed. She agreed. For the greater good. For the good of the group. So they didn’t fall apart. Veronica and Archie would’ve told her, right?

 

_Everything is fine._

 

Their smiles are wider than they’ve been in months. They eat and laugh and joke and tease like nothing’s changed between now and last spring, like everything is fine, which it is, but Kev has to be lying because they can’t be lying _he has to be because they can’t be—_

 

“Everything okay, Betty?” Archie smiles at her, and she beams back, nodding.

 

“Yeah. Everything is fine.”

 

 

 

 

 

She’s still staring at a blank screen when everyone else leaves.

 

“Can I help at all?”

 

She grunts. He ruffles her hair. “You’re making progress, y’know.”

 

She looks at him in disbelief. “How?”

 

“You’re still with us,” he shrugs. “You’re not pulling away, you’re letting us help you. You want to get better. Or at least, that’s how I see it.”

 

She reaches up to lace their fingers together. “I’m not pulling away.” She meets his eyes, earnest. “I want to get better.”

 

He smiles at her. “I know.” He nods towards her laptop. “So tell them that.”

 

He squeezes her hand once, and heads out. She looks back at her story, not yet started, with new hope.

 

It’s time to be better.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Burn your bridges down._

 

Honestly, _fuck_ Archibald Andrews. Who does he think he is, pretending like everything is fine when it so clearly isn’t? Doesn’t he know that she knows their dirty little secret? Doesn’t he know by now you can’t keep anything from a Cooper girl?

 

_Burn your bridges down._

 

They’re working on his car, fixing it up for the summer, because Archie wouldn’t know his way around a garage if you handed him an instruction manual whereas Betty could do all the work blindfolded, and of course she’d agreed to help him because they’re best friends and that’s just what best friends do but they’re not best friends because how the ever-loving _fuck_ could Veronica and Archie keep this from her if they were—

 

“Break,” she says abruptly. Archie furrows his brows.

 

“We’re working on the engine, Betty.”

 

“We’re taking a _break_ , Archie,” she snaps. He looks confused, and maybe a little touchy.

 

“What’s with you?”

 

_Burn your bridges._

 

She laughs. “What’s with me? Seriously? As if you didn’t know.”

 

He looks at her incredulously. “Betty, what the hell are you talking about.”

 

“What I’m talking about, _Arch_ ,” she throws down the wrench she’s holding, relishing in the clatter and the chaos, “is you being caught in a lie you can’t undo.”

 

Burn them.

 

“Oh,” he says softly.

 

“Yeah, _oh_. What were you hoping toaccomplish, exactly? ‘Cause I’ll tell you what, if you wanted us to feel like strangers, you managed it, pal.”

 

“Betty—”

 

“And it’s worse because I found out from Kev. Not you, not Veronica. _Kevin_.” She laughs again, but it feels so empty she could cry.

 

“Betty, please, you have to understand—”

 

_Burn it all down._

 

“I’m going home,” she whispers, and it sounds like a goodbye. She doesn’t look at him when she leaves, but she does hold up a hand and say, “Do not follow me right now.” She’s done.

 

_Burn your bridges down._

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reggie seeks her out at the end of the day. She’s waiting for Jug to take her home — he does most days, now. “Hey, B.C.”

 

“Hey, Reg. Need something?”

 

“Maybe some advice, if you’ve got some to spare?” She gestures for him to take a seat next to her on the stairs, and he slings an arm around her as he does. The physical affection is something she’s learning she loves. “Y’know, on love and stuff.”

 

“Well, you asking me is cause for some concern.”

 

“Please, Betts, you and Jug practically orbit around each other. It’s hard not to envy that.”

 

“We’re not—” She shakes her head. Not important right now. Instead, she asks, “You and Josie?” The pink tint that colors his face tells her everything she needs to know.

 

“She’s just… perfect,” he tells her. The tiny note of awe in his tone melts her heart to goo.

 

She presses closer to him. “You know how grateful I am? For everything you’ve done? For you being here, being in my life?”

 

He squeezes her shoulder. “I didn’t stick around for a thank-you, Betty.”

 

“I know you didn’t,” she smiles. “And that’s how I know you are more than deserving.”

 

“You think?” Reggie’s voice issmall. She nods.

 

“She’ll say yes when you ask, you know. The only reason she hasn’t asked herself is because she knows you have a plan.” She looks up at him, at the grin starting to spread across his face.

 

“I do.” He laughs, nearly breathless. “Yeah, I do.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

_What if I had been a better friend?_

 

Her phone’s stopped ringing, at this point. It’s been six hours since she blew up at Archie, and she’s wallowing, she knows she’s wallowing, but what else is she supposed to do but ponder reasons why it’s all come out this way?

 

_What if I had said nothing?_

 

She’s been going down a list of possibilities since it happened, the things that could’ve been had she just done something, anything different.

 

_What if I had told them?_

 

In her mind, she thinks that maybe it’s just stupid, because what-ifs and maybes are going to do nothing to help her, but she’s always been a victim of her own wandering mind and maybe it’s just better if she lets it crumble around her.

 

_Can I go back?_

 

But she’s holding on to hope.

 

_Please let me go back._

 

She needs to believe that she can make it right.

 

_Let me fix this._

 

She’ll do anything, at this point.

 

_How can I fix this?_

 

Please, God, please—

 

She looks out her window. Archie’s curtains are closed for the first time in years. She’s going to cry.

 

_What if I had been better?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

After Toni and Cheryl got together, the four of them stopped having sleepovers for obvious reasons. Movie nights are still a thing, however. Everyone gets to Betty’s just as the sun starts going down. Toni heads straight for the kitchen for popcorn. Once she’s pulled half a dozen blankets from the linen closet, Cheryl picks out _Love, Simon_ and sets it up to play when her girlfriend returns. Kevin is painting Betty’s toes a soft blue, because she’s a disaster and doesn’t trust herself to do it right, and in turn, she’s applying a homemade honey mask to his face.

 

“How do I look?” He strikes a pose once she’s done. Betty collapses into giggles just as the doorbell rings.

 

“I’ll get it!” Toni shouts from the other room.

 

“Alright, you,” Kevin jabs her in the side, “I’m teaching you how to do your nails tonight if it’s the last thing I do.”

 

“Uh, guys…” The three of them look up to where Toni’s got a hold on Jughead’s wrist. Betty smiles at him. He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean… the ‘A’ stands for ace, right?”

 

Kevin breaks out into a wide grin. “Welcome to the Gay Gang.”

 

Cheryl groans. “For the love of God, Kev, we are not calling ourselves that. It’s demeaning!”

 

“I think it’s blatantly honest, and embracing of our sexualities.”

 

“Well, _I_ think—”

 

In the midst of the bickering, Toni perches on the arm of the couch closest to Cheryl, and Jug drapes himself over Betty’s side. “This okay?”

 

She smears a little face mask on his cheek, and laughs at his gasp of shock. “Now it is.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Out of chances, out of choices._

 

“You should go home.”

 

“Fuck off, Jones.” She’s too tired for his shit today.

 

_Out of chances, out of choices._

 

What’s she supposed to do right now? She’s helpless, hopeless, left with nothing. She wants to cry. She wants to scream.

 

“Cooper—”

 

“I said _fuck off_ , Jones,” she snarls. Jughead backs away, hands in the air.

 

“Fine. I’m heading out.”

 

“Good.” She types a little more furiously.

 

_Out of chances, out of choices._

 

She should go home. She’s typing nonsense, anyway. There’s nothing left for her here. Everything is falling apart and there is nothing she can do but watch it fall away around her. She wants to call Archie. She wants to call Veronica. She wants to call someone who will understand, but her two best friends lied to her, they didn’t trust her, because Betty is a _stuck-up bitch the prude the life-ruiner the snitch the useless annoying know-it-all the fat attention whore who even likes her anyway-_

 

_Out of chances, out of choices._

 

What’s a girl to do?

 

“Oh, um… Maybe you should come back later—”

 

“Move, Holden Caulfield.” Betty straightens. Oh, _hell_ no.

 

“Jughead, wait—”

 

“She asked you to go, man,” Archie claps a hand on his shoulder. It’s not friendly.

 

“No, wait—” She’s desperate, but the plea goes unanswered.

 

“I’ll go.” His smile is strained. And just like that, she’s alone with her grief, and the last two people on Earth she wants to see right now.

 

“Bettykins,” Veronica says, voice like ice. “Let’s have a chat, shall we?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

She seeks out Ethel, the next morning. She needs quiet reassurance and the specific brand of comfort only Ethel can provide. It’s before first period, so she’s working the shelves of the library. Betty finds her in the romance section.

 

“Hey, Betty,” Ethel murmurs, pulling her in for a warm hug. Betty falls into the embrace freely.

 

“I need help finding a book.” It’s a game they’ve played before, a metaphor for her situation, how Betty’s feeling about it. Ethel nods slowly.

 

“Describe it to me.”

 

“Well, there’s a love triangle, because when it there not?” She half-smiles and tucks her head into the crook of Ethel’s neck. “And the main character’s feeling pretty down right about now. But she’s got friends who love her, friends who support her. Friends who won’t leave. She wants to talk about it now, and she hasn’t before.”

 

“Are you getting close to the end?” Ethel asks. She nods.

 

“But don’t worry,” Betty tells her. “There’s a sequel. I hear it’s much happier.”

 

Ethel smiles. “I’m glad.”

 

“Ethel?” Betty murmurs. “I’m ready to talk about it.”

 

Ethel beams, soft and sweet. “Let’s go find the others.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Just rip off the band-aid._

 

She stands, arms across her chest. She’s ready for answers. “How could you keep this from me? Did you not trust me?”

 

And Archie, ever the gentle boy-next-door, holds up his hands to placate her, like she’s a wild animal and not the girl he’s known for thirteen years. “Betty, we didn’t want you to flip out like you are now.”

 

_Just rip off the band-aid._

 

Her nails curling into her palms is only slightly noticeable, but somehow the sting makes it all that much sharper. “Archie, the only reason I’m upset is because you hid this from me! I thought you were my friends!”

 

“If you hadn’t made that stupid~ rule-” Veronica starts to round on her.

 

_Just rip off the band-aid._

 

“I only made that rule so you two would start talking to each other again!” She screeches. Is the door closed? She hopes the door is closed.

 

“Really? Or did you make it because you were selfish?” Hands on her hips. Oh, Veronica must be pissed at her. She should care, right? Feel something other than an overwhelming urge to just let it all die?

 

_Just rip it off._

 

She gets pitchy. “Excuse me?”

 

“You heard me,” Veronica’s voice is practically a whistle, at this point. “I think you made that rule because you knew we didn’t want to date you, so you tried to keep us apart.”

 

_Rip it off._

 

“You are such a bitch, Veronica!” She hisses.

 

Veronica fires back. “And you are a monster, Elizabeth Cooper! You’re worse than my father!”

 

_Rip it—_

 

Bewildered, she throws her hands into the air. “Where is this coming from? What did I do wrong?”

 

Veronica shoves her, knocking her against the desk. She’s sure to be bruised tomorrow. “You have been against me and Archie from the start! You’ve always tried to break us up, and I’m done being friends with someone who’s always looking for a way to sabotage me!” She pokes a finger into her chest. Betty cannot fucking _breathe_.

 

It’s over, isn’t it?

 

_Rip—_

 

Okay. “Fine.” She pushes Veronica back so she can escape. “I hope you two are happy together, because you definitely deserve each other.” She grabs for the door, squeezing past Archie, who looks more shell-shocked than anything. Probably surprised she finally grew a backbone. She’d laugh if she didn’t know the implications of her current course of action. Instead, she says, “This is over. I’m out.”

 

Veronica says, “Then go.” No dramatic swell of music, no more bargaining, no stages of grief, no monologue. Just the click of the door as it shuts behind her.

 

_Just rip off the band-aid._

 

 

 

 

 

 

They all come together during lunch. Betty’s sitting criss-cross on her desk, right across from Ethel, who’s holding her hands so she doesn’t clench her fists.

 

“Betty?” Jug steps forward. “What’s up?”

 

_One breath, two breaths, three._

 

She faces her friends. Kevin, Toni, Reggie, Cheryl, Jughead. Ethel places a hand on her shoulder, reminding her of her presence. Above all things, Betty is loved.

 

She takes one more deep breath in. “Hey guys. Can we talk?”


	16. 'cause i've been waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Jughead Jones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "Golden Dandelions" by Barns Courtney.

She’s in shock. Or, well, she thinks she is. Nothing is really registering at the moment.

 

Approximately… what’s the time, six o’clock? Seven? Approximately four hours ago, Betty’s entire world ended with the uttering of two words: “Then go.” She’s laying on her bed and staring at her ceiling. She’s stopped crying at this point, but she chalks it up to the lack of water in her system. She’s not making any move to fix her situation. She doesn’t have the energy to make it down the stairs. To find some water. Maybe some Advil. She doesn’t want to leave her room.

 

Her phone chimes. She almost throws it on the ground, too nervous to even breathe. Her stomach is in her throat. She can barely read the words on the screen, her vision is so fuzzy. And once she’s read them, she wishes she hadn’t.

 

_betty, what’s going on? ron removed you from the group chat and she won’t let me add you back._

 

Kevin. God, she hadn’t even thought about that. What’s she going to say to Kevin? To any of her friends? Because her life is in shambles but it’s Wednesday in the middle of finals week, and she still has to go to school and face her… are they exes, now? What the hell is she going to do?

 

It’s barely there, but she still clings to a slight spark of defiance. She’s going to do what Cooper girls do best. She’s going to straighten up, with her shoulders back and her head held high. She’s going to smile, the shiniest, most perfect girl-next-door smile she can manage. And Betty is going to survive.

 

It’ll blow over, right? It has to.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s not an easy conversation to have, and it’s not one they can have in just under an hour. At lunch, she regales them with the good. Tales of the golden trio, of the Three Musketeers, of _ArchieandBettyandVeronica_ so closely knit they couldn’t live apart. Jughead won’t meet her eyes. The period ends, the bell rings, they head their separate ways. After school, they pile into Reggie’s car and sing along to the radio. Betty’s heart beats loudly in her chest, guilt-ridden and grieving. _Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump._

 

In the soft neon glow of a roadside diner, seven teenagers squeeze together into the same booth, and listen to a heartbreak in three parts.

 

She tells them about falling for Archie, watching Veronica fall, too, about the pact between two best friends so in love. She tells them of _ArchieandValerie_ becoming _ArchieandValeriewhenhe’snotwithVeronica_ to her betrayal and subsequent banishment. She tells them about begging for forgiveness and breaking her own heart to bring her friends together. She tells them about the break-up, about loving Veronica more than she loved herself, about every word from Veronica’s mouth that wedged the knife deeper into her chest.

 

The first part was Archie’s fault, and part two was all Veronica, and if one was Archie and two was Veronica, it’s only fair that three was Betty.

 

So she tells them about the rule she made to protect them all from more pain. She tells them about catching them in a lie through Kevin, who looks heartbroken at the knowledge that he contributed to the situation in some way. She wants to comfort him, but she has to get this out or she’s afraid she never will. She regales them with her anger, her grief, with the final fight that left her heart in _bits and pieces_. She tells them about her lonely summer that eventually evolved into a tumultuous start to junior year.

 

She leaves nothing out, leaves herself bare and exposed, leaves her secrets out in the open. For the first time, it doesn’t feel so dangerous.

 

She tells them how grateful she is to have them in her life. Tells them that they help more than they know. Thanks them for sticking around. She tells them about Dr. Patel, and her journal, how every week she makes a little more progress.

 

And they stay. They don’t leave. They thank her for trusting them. They listen, and they _stay_ , and Betty is safe and warm and _loved_ and the tears come before she can will them away. Jug moves his hand close to hers and links their pinkies. She smiles.

 

She’s not going to be okay with what happened any time soon. The good news is, she doesn’t have to be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

So they had a fight. A big, horrible, nasty fight that has her skin crawling if she thinks about it for too long. She opts for the scenic route to school in the morning, leaving twenty minutes earlier than usual. She spends the extra time locked in the journalism room, frantically typing up a last minute story before deleting the whole thing with a sigh. It’s the worst kind of writing, panicked and rushed. Not publishable in the slightest.

 

Lunch rolls around in the blink of an eye, but that could be an effect of this hazy daze she seems to be trapped in, doomed to floating the halls like a long-forgotten ghost. She tries once, twice, three times to open up her locker, and… no success.

 

“Hey Cooper!” She jolts back to reality, to the harsh tone of Jughead Jones’s voice. She turns to see the usual four, Toni and Sweet Pea and Fangs, all with similar expressions of sympathy. Jughead jerks his head towards the cafeteria. “Move it or lose it.” Toni swats him, but Betty’s grateful for the sudden focus his outburst has given her. She hurries off with purpose. Find her friends. Fix this mess. Beg for forgiveness, if she has to. But hopefully it won’t come to that.

 

Except her friends aren’t in the cafeteria, which derails her plans entirely. She was counting on the rest of the student body to act as a buffer. Veronica and Archie are many things, but they’re not the type of people to make a scene in a crowded room.

 

Okay. Reevaluating. So they aren’t in the cafeteria. Where could they be? She’s a journalist, so she does what she does best. She looks for clues. She notices that none of the usual suspects are present, which means that they’re likely eating elsewhere. That means Veronica and Archie are probably not making out in the janitor’s closet, which makes apologizing decidedly less gut-wrenching. So they’re with the group, eating lunch together in an area that is not the cafeteria. Outside, maybe? No, she can hear rain, now that she’s listening for it.

 

It hits her out of nowhere. Oh, how could she be so stupid? They’re at the student lounge. And her guess is proven correct when she hears the airy giggles of Veronica, and the rumbling chuckles of Archie. She beams to herself. She knows them so well.

 

“Yeah, she’s a total bitch,” and she stops dead in her tracks. She can almost hear the eye roll in Veronica’s tone when she says, “God, I can’t believe we put up with her for so long. ‘Look at me, I’m Saint Betty, love me, love me!’ What a joke. It’s a total cry for help. Honestly, I feel bad for her. She’s so pathetic.”

 

“I only really let her stick around because we were neighbors,” and oh god, that’s Archie. _Her_ Archie, her best friend of thirteen years, her boy next door. “If I had known what a backstabbing control freak she’d turn out to be, I would’ve just steered clear.”

 

There’s another round of laughter, but their peanut gallery seems uneasy. Betty can’t even process that at the moment. She feels lost. She feels _empty_. She feels the need to do _something_.

 

She storms into the lounge before she can stop herself. “Hi,” she smiles, all shiny and pretty and perfect, “I’m looking for Jughead. Have any of you seen him?” She’s not looking for Jughead, but he’s the first person she could think of that isn’t in the room. The room that has now fallen deadly quiet.

 

“Um,” Ethel pipes up, and Veronica shoots her a withering glare. “I think he’s in the Blue and Gold office, Betty.”

 

“Thanks, Ethel,” she says softly. She feels defeated. She feels the tears coming. “See you around!” She turns tail and runs. When she’s just about to turn the corner, she hears the laughter begin again. Her cheeks grow wet. _What a joke_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jug asks if he can walk her home, so Betty sends the rest of them with Reggie, who winks at her. Toni whispers something in Jug’s ear, and Cheryl gives her a hug and murmurs, “Go get ‘em, tiger,” so it’s clear what direction her friends think this is going.

 

It’s really nothing that exciting. She and Jug hang out all the time these days. It’s friendly. It’s completely platonic. Sure, she tolerates his company more these days, and they certainly spend a lot more time holed up in the Blue and Gold office together than they used to, and sometimes when she’s mindlessly scrolling through Pinterest and she finds a recipe she thinks he’d like she forwards it to him and they’ll lose the rest of the day bantering over text. He takes her home most days, even when it isn’t a Thursday, and they call each other most nights to help each other with homework. She’s visited him at work once or twice, and they’ve had a couple study sessions at Pop’s, and there’s a picture of the two of them cooking and giggling that her mother had taken last Thursday amongst pictures of her and the rest of the gang on her mirror.

 

It’s nothing. It’s friendly. It’s him being nice. He feels bad for the poor broken girl, that’s all. Poor unlovable little Betty. Couldn’t keep her friends to save her life. No wonder they didn’t want her around. She’s _the stuck-up bitch the prude the life-ruiner the snitch the useless annoying know-it-all the fat attention whore who even likes her anyway —_

 

 _One breath, two breaths, three._ Her hands start to ball into fists.

 

“Hey.” She startles at the sharp note his voice takes on. “Betty, stop.” He takes her hands into his. The skin remains unbroken, but the deep scars remain. He runs his thumbs over the ridges, and she shivers.

 

“Sorry,” she rasps, voice tired from use. He shakes his head.

 

“Just talk to me, Betts,” he whispers. She falls into him, pressing her face into his jacket.

 

“It’s a lot, that’s all. Talking about it.”

 

“I can imagine.” He wraps his arms around her, and she relaxes at the warmth. But there’s something whirring in her mind, something she has to ask him. She feels safe with him, comfortable. She needs to know she can trust that feeling. She needs to know the truth. She needs to know _why_.

 

“Jug? Why were you so awful to me?” He stiffens. She immediately regrets asking.

 

“Betty,” he breathes, and she tugs herself away. He lets her go, but he’s still reaching for her. “Betts, please look at me.”

 

Blue eyes meet blue eyes. “Just… why?”

 

“Truth be told, I was kind of a dick to you because I was… jealous? Not that that’s any excuse.”

 

“Jealous? Of me?”

 

He takes off his beanie and runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, yeah, Betts. People love you. When we were younger, I think it was harder for me to get it, the stigma that separated us. I saw us in the same light because we both came from single parent families. I don’t really think four-year-old me quite grasped the concept of socioeconomic prejudice, and so he took it out on the girl everyone was always fawning over. And you were so nice to me, too, which I hated because it felt like pity. I dunno, Betty, I was a dumb kid and a pretty girl like you? You were an impossible standard to beat. Which was unfair to you, honestly. That was a lot of pressure.”

 

“It’s unfair that people judged you without knowing you,” she murmurs.

 

“Yeah, but I did kind of play into the stereotype once I could comprehend the basics of my situation. You know, troubled kid with mommy issues?” He laughs humorlessly at his own joke, and Betty’s heart breaks for him. “And as we got older, I started realizing that it wasn’t your fault whatsoever and I had been unjustly cruel, but… well, I’m kind of shit with apologies. Which you know.” He looks up at the sky before closing his eyes. “Jesus, I was so goddamn stupid.”

 

“Stop.” She says firmly, grabbing the lapels of his jacket so that they’re eye to eye, so that he hears her when she tells him, “You’re not stupid, Juggie. Our lives have been hellish all around. What matters is that we’ve changed and grown. We’re both different people now. Better people.”

 

He swallows. “I shouldn’t have called you unlovable. I didn’t mean it at all. I thought you were making fun of me. You said that we made ‘quite the picture’.” “After I said it, I felt so awful, but then you were with Veronica and Archie told me that if I went after you I’d regret it, and—”

 

“Wait, stop, Archie said what?”

 

“He threatened me. Told me that if he caught me talking to you again, he’d make me pay for it. Which, like,” he barks out a laugh, “I could’ve easily taken him in a fight back then, but—”

 

“God, I’m so sorry. They were so horrible to you.”

 

“I kind of deserved it,” he shrugs. She opens her mouth to interject, but he laughs again, shushing her effectively. “Betts, I was a different person back then. An objectively worse person. But I’d like to think that this version of me would’ve socked Archie in the jaw, that I’m better because I know you.”

 

“You did punch Archie for me, don’t you remember?” It’s a terrible attempt to lighten the mood, mostly because her voice is trembling, because her mind is stuck on _I’m better because I know you._

 

Holy shit. Holy _fuck_.

 

The grin slowly spreads across his face. “Yeah, I did,” he says cheekily, completely oblivious to her internal meltdown. “Guess that makes me your knight in shining armor.”

 

Her throat is dry. She waits a beat too long before responding with, “My hero.” She takes his hand again, now sure she’s overthinking things.

 

He squeezes once. “Are we okay?”

 

 _Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump._ She warns her telltale heart to shut up before she smiles gently at him and tells him, “We’re golden.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Dear Veronica and Archie,_

 

_Dr. Patel asked me to write you both a letter, not to send, but rather to provide an introspection of my feelings in our aftermath. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be writing. What can you say to the two of you, other than I’m sorry, I could never hate you, and you are the only people I have ever loved?_

 

_Except, I don’t think any of that is true anymore. Because I’m not sorry, not for our fallout. Looking back, that tension had been building up for years, just waiting for a chance to boil over. Because the three of us were the most fucked-up, twisted triangle out there. Because toxicity seems to be how we coped with everything, and I guess it finally caught up to us. And I think I do hate you, just a little, or I at least resent you. I’ve always played my role so well, and I envied you both from breaking away and leaving me to play the part of the perfect girl next door. Maybe too well, thinking back, because I’ve always trusted you to catch me when you’ve given me no reasons to do so._

 

_As for love, well… I don’t know what to say. I look at the people who surround me now and I feel so safe and warm and I… I don’t think I felt that with you. With either of you. Maybe once, but… that was so long ago. I believe that I loved you once, and bits and pieces of me always will. But now I know that I will love again._

 

_I don’t know how to forgive what happened between us. A three-part installment of heartbreak and heresy is not so easily forgotten. What I do know is this: we were all at fault, and I cannot continue to pretend that we were not. I do not forgive you yet. I haven’t seen any change, growth, or any reason to let bygones be bygones. Maybe things would be different if we talked things out, but I’m not quite sure I’m ready for the confrontation. And as for me, well… Maybe one day you can forgive me. But today, right now, I’m forgiving myself. And in some ways, that is more than enough._

 

_Love,_

_Betty_

 

 

 

She arrives with Kevin and Reggie and Moose, when the party is already well underway. They were supposed to arrive early, but Kevin had seen the dress she was planning on wearing and pitched a fit.

 

“Seersucker? Are you working on the railroad or are you celebrating your boyfriend’s birthday?”

 

“He’s not my—” She’s cut off by flying scrap of fabric that hits her smack in the face.

 

“Put that on, and let’s roll.”

 

They end up being an hour late, because after she’d changed into Kevin’s pick of pink satin, he’d had to adjust her whole look. Reggie and Moose proved to be more distraction than help, offering tentative advice that Kevin vehemently disagreed with on principle.

 

“She can’t wear purple eyeshadow and red lipstick with a pink dress, Moose, are you out of your mind?”

 

“It’s pretty!”

 

“Yeah, separately!”

 

They squabble until Reggie parks, and then they run around the back to do… actually, she’s not too sure where they’re going, but she assumes they’re up to no good. Betty knocks on the front door because she actually has some manners about her, thank you very much. It’s well worth it, too, because Jughead is the one who answers the door.

 

His smile is blinding and euphoric. “Betty, you made it!”

 

Amused, she replies, “Like I would have missed it. And this is for you, by the way.” She hands him her gift to him, which, hopefully he won’t open until later. She doesn’t think she can face him when he does.

 

“Thank you kindly, madame. I’d go put it in one of Cheryl’s guest rooms, but Sweets and Fangs disappeared a few minutes ago and I’d rather not walk in on that.” She wrinkles her nose, but internally, she sighs with relief. Not yet. She’s got time.

 

“Mmm, good choice. Is Toni in charge of drinks?”

 

“Yeah, you want me to grab you something?” He holds her box tight to his chest. Her nerves twist, but as much as she’d appreciate some liquid courage, she wants to remember tonight in perfect detail.

 

“Just a soda, thanks.”

 

“You’ve got it, Betts.” He winks at her — _winks_ — and disappears around the corner. Jesus, did her heart always flutter this much?

 

While she’s catching her breath, she spots two of her favorite people, who she assumes have just arrived. “Val! Mel! You’re…” They spot her and start to wind their way over, hands intertwined. She squeals. “Oh my God! Did—”

 

Val answers for them both, mostly because Mel just can’t stop snickering. “Uh-huh.”

 

“When?”

 

“After Reg asked out Josie. She stopped practice and said she wasn’t gonna sing until we ‘sorted out our sexual tension.’”

 

Betty laughs lightly. “Sounds like Josie.”

 

Melody wraps her arms around Valerie’s neck, kissing her cheek. She turns to Betty. “We’re gonna go find Tina and Ginger. Pass on the meddling mantle. Catch you later, maybe?”

 

Blissfully happy for her friends, Betty nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, definitely!” The two venture off into the crowds. She feels a familiar presence behind her.

 

“Feeling the love?”

 

She leans back into him, taking her drink without glancing at him once. “It’s… nice, y’know? Watching everyone find their happy. Gives me hope that after everything, things can be okay.” They watch the world around them for a few moments. So many smiling, drunk teenagers in one place. How fleeting the night is. At least, for the next few hours, they’re free of expectation.

 

“Wanna dance?” She arches a brow at him.

 

“You don’t do that.”

 

He shrugs. “I also don’t do this. This party. Or I didn’t.”

 

“What changed?” She asks, like she knows his answer will change everything, which it will.

 

He looks at her like he knows it, too. “You.”

 

And before Betty can say anything, it all goes to hell. The front door slams open.

 

“Sorry we’re late, everybody,” Veronica smirks.

 

Well, fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kindness and love you all have shown me in the process of writing and publishing this story is something I am so grateful for, even when I'm not really feeling 100%. I got out for break around a week ago, but with the chaos in my life I've had no time to write this monster of a chapter. It's out now though, so hopefully you guys enjoy it! And I am on break now,, so expect lots more from me! We're so close to the finish line, guys. Just a couple chapters left!
> 
> I do intend to respond to all of your comments, I've just been so busy lately that I haven't had the chance. I love you guys. Thank you for being the greatest audience to share this story with.


	17. thought you got away with murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And in the end, it all comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This story will describe a character facing anorexia, and at times it may get slightly graphic. Please, please, please, if you are facing an eating disorder, get help. I do not condone eating disorders, but there is a character who attempts to help Betty hide her disorder. I do not support this character's actions, but it is a part of the story. This story is based on my experiences in high school, and as such I'm going to go into some detail, so if this story will negatively affect you in any way, then please do not read it. Thank you.
> 
> Song for this chapter is "Catch" by Allie X.

“Tell me about your friends, Betty.”

She loves Dr. Patel, loves the way he turns her hard-to-comprehend issues into problems she can break down and solve, but she’s tired today and she’d told him about the triangle last session and she wants to kind of just have a quiet day. But that’s not why she’s doing this. She’s doing this to get better. For her friends. For her family. For herself.

“Well, I met Archie when I was—”

He interrupts her. “Not them, Betty. Your current friends.”

She furrows her brows. “My… current friends? They’re fine, great, actually. I love them a lot. They’re actually who convinced me to come here and start talking to someone.”

He nods. “Describe them to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she starts off, “but how are they at all relevant to the situation?”

He sits back. “Tell me how they’re not.”

Okay, he’s either batshit or about to make a mind-blowing point, and Betty’s itching to find out which one it is. “Well, they’re… I mean, they’re still around. They still love me. They’re helping me muddle through. They… stayed.”

What do you feel, Betty?

“And they know your history.”

“Better than anyone,” she agrees.

“And they stayed?”

She laughs in spite of herself. “I was surprised, too.”

“Why?”

The question catches her off-guard. “Why?”

“Why are you surprised they stayed?”

“Because… they know about what’s happened in the past,” she says. “They know that my best friends left me.”

“But they stayed.”

“They did.”

“So what does that tell you?”

She’s stunned. What does that tell her? “I know they care,” she says slowly, “because they told me to come here. Because they want me to get better.”

“They do,” he affirms.

“They care… about me. The past matters, but it doesn’t define me. Because they’re my future.” She whips her head around to face him. “Oh.”

Dr. Patel smiles at her. “Boom.”

She groans. “You’re terrible.” She looks to the clock. “Are we already done?”

He shrugs. “You have my number. If you need me, you can always text me or call me. But you’re doing well, Betty. It may not feel like it, but you are.”

She beams at him. “I’ll get there.” She pulls out her backpack. “Any homework?”

“Enjoy yourself,” he says. At her blank stare, he confirms, “Enjoy your new beginning. Enjoy your future. Go have fun with your friends.”

She looks at the clock again. Jughead’s party is tonight. “Yeah,” she says, feeling her lips creep up in a grin, “I will.”

 

 

There’s a moment, right before shit hits the fan, where it is dead silent. The music has cut out. The world stands still. She stares at Veronica and Archie with new eyes, and for once, she doesn’t feel a pang of apprehension or fear. She doesn’t have the urge to run away. They can’t hurt her here. She’s safe.

Reggie, who most likely is responsible for turning off the music, comes up behind her and Jughead. “Get the fuck out, both of you.”

Veronica examines her nails, but for the first time, Betty can see right through her. It’s an act. It’s just a front. “How rude, Reggie. The whole school is here. I assumed our invite was just lost in the mail.”

Cheryl ducks out of the kitchen with fire in her eyes. “Oh, it was more than intentional, you discount damsel. And I suggest you leave before I sic the Sheriff on you.”

“Who, by the way, will arrest you both for trespassing.” She doesn’t even see where Kevin comes from, but suddenly she’s got four people surrounding her with the same protective expressions painted on their faces. Her heart glows.

“Isn’t that kind of an overreaction? We’re not here to make waves.” And as tough as Archie may appear, he can’t hide the dark circles and the red-rimmed eyes. She’d always assumed that his curtains had been closed to her because he couldn’t care less. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe they’d been closed because he could.

“Oh, but you have no problem being assholes to Betty!” Jughead snarls. She burrows further into his side. His arm tightens around her. The gears whir in her brain.

“We haven’t said anything to Betty since we arrived. Besides, does she really need you to fight her battles for her? Because I’ve got to admit, that seems a little grade school.” It’s a hollow laugh from Veronica, one that sounds a little wet.

_One breath, two breaths, three…_

Cheryl takes a step forward. “If you don’t get the hell out of my house right now—”

“Stop.” And there’s the silence again. Everyone looks to her. She meets Archie’s eyes, then Veronica’s. Stop.

Jughead stills. “Betty—” _What are you doing? What’s going on?_

“Juggie.” She turns around and cups his cheek, communicating an unsaid answer to his unasked question. _Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing_. She spins to face her former friends, addressing her current ones. “Guys, I appreciate it, but they’re right. This is my fight, not yours. They haven’t done anything to you.”

“But—” Kevin protests. Despite her course of action, she can’t help the tiny smile that graces her features. She’s so lucky to have these people in her life.

“Please. Let me handle this.” It takes a minute, but Cheryl comes back to stand with them. Reggie and Kevin are quiet. Jughead relaxes against her. She raises her voice to the crowds that have gathered, waiting for a spectacle. “Alright, show’s over!” It takes a minute, but after some groaning and grumbling, the rest of the student body disperses. Without taking her eyes off the two people in front of her, she reaches for Jughead’s hand, and slots their fingers together. Her heart beats steady in her chest. _Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump_. “Archie, Veronica, you’re welcome to stay. Drinks are in the kitchen, but upstairs is off limits.” And then she turns to walk away.

“That’s… it? We can stay?” She hears the tiny tremble in Veronica’s tone, unrecognizable to anyone but her and Archie.

She meets Veronica’s gaze. It’s too shiny and heartbroken. Betty swallows the lump in her throat and shrugs. She can’t back down now. “Or you can leave, if you want. Doesn’t affect me either way.”

Archie’s voice is small. “But…”

“Would you rather I have them kick you out?” She quirks a brow.

Veronica’s found her hill to die upon. “It would make a hell of a lot more sense.” It’s stronger, braver. She’s baiting Betty, waiting for her to rise and fight. But Betty’s done fighting.

“I mean, I could do that. But it seems like it’d be a lot less fun for you both.” She shrugs again, and it’s less forced. She squeezes Jughead’s hand. “Sorry, you’ll have to excuse me. This nerd…”

“Hey!” He squawks, and Betty nearly giggles, despite the situation.

“… Owes me a dance. I’ll see you around, maybe.” And she smiles. Not the saccharine, perfect Cooper smile, but not a sour one, either. It’s real and raw and open, and it doesn’t tug on her heartstrings at all. She gives a tiny little wave, and then she drags Jughead to the middle of the dance floor. Towards a new beginning. Towards her _future_.

 

 

“Press week has me exhausted,” she groans, flopping on the Jones’s couch after dinner. She presses both hands to her stomach. “Though I will say this, it was worth coming over. Your dad makes killer manicotti.”

“You barely ate any, nerd.” Jughead throws a pillow at her, and it hits her square in the face. “But thank your mom for us. She gave him the recipe.”

She tucks the pillow behind her head and curls up. “Yeah, well, what I did have was amazing. And I will.” He laughs at her. She wrinkles her nose, and jabs him with her foot. “When are you taking me home?”

He shrugs. “Whenever you want is fine with me. It’s raining, though,” he tells her, gesturing outside. It must have started pouring during dinner.

She buries her face into the pillow and whines. “I wanna go _home_ and watch sad _movies_ and _cry_.”

He closes his eyes and stifles his laughter. “Seems like a grand idea.”

She looks up to him, squinting. “Are you making fun of me? That’s not friendly.”

He raises his hands up. “I wasn’t, I swear.” Then he pauses, glancing up and scratching his chin. “Or, maybe I was, just a little.” The pillow takes him by surprise, and he goes flying backwards. “Ow!”

“That’s what you get!” She sings, snatching the remote from the coffee table and flipping through the channels. “Oh, Forensic Files is on!”

“Really?” He comes to sit next to her, settling in. “Oh, I love this one.”

“No spoilers, I haven’t seen it.” He snickers, and she shoves him. “I mean it, Jug.”

He grins. “You got it, Betts.”

 

 

A slow song she half-knows the words to comes over Reggie’s spreaker, and she throws her arms around Jughead’s neck and presses her face into his shoulder. Jughead doesn’t move. She looks up at his face of confusion. “What’s up?”

He shakes his head and sets his hands on her hips. “Okay, explain.”

“Explain what?”

“That! All of that!” His eyes move to where she’s sure Veronica and Archie are still standing, gaping.

She doesn’t mind explaining. “They want me to kick them out.”

His expression furrows. “They do?”

She nods. “It reassures them. They hate me, Jug. Like, soul-crushing, all-consuming hate. Sometimes, it’s all they can think about.”

He’s starting to piece her reasoning together. “And… you can tell?”

She laughs to herself a little bit. “Yeah. I was the same way for so long.” She pauses to collect her thoughts. “Well, kind of. I was wallowing, defining my life by a triangle that meant everything to me and nothing to them. It’s hard not to see the signs. They want to know that it meant something. They want proof that it happened, that I’m still just as affected as they are.”

Ah, there’s that ‘aha’ moment she’s been waiting for. “So by letting them stay…”

“Killing two birds with one stone, I guess. They don’t get reassurance, and…” She sighs. “I’m tired, Jug. The last six months, my entire world has revolved around losing them from my life. I stopped sleeping. Stopped eating. I hurt all of you.” She looks at him, then, tries to convey her apology, but his eyes tell her to keep going. So she does. “I almost lost what I had found because I was so wrapped up in what I had lost. I’m over it. I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t still sting a little, but I don’t have to let that define my actions. They want me to hate them. I don’t.” She stops. She adds, “Do I forgive them? No. But I forgive myself.”

And it’s true. With everything that’s happened, everything in her life that has gone wrong, she has always been so harsh and judgmental of her own actions. She’s healing, now. She’s taking her life in her own hands, and she’s letting love and light into her life. What happened between her and Archie and Veronica is in the past.

Jughead tells her, “That’s actually really beautiful.” All she can think is how beautiful _he_ looks under the soft lights of Cheryl’s living room. This, right here, is her future.

She clears her throat. “You think?”

He laughs. “Betts… okay, on the verge of being a total sap—”

She butts in. “You’re already a total sap, but continue.”

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…” He purses her lips, and she giggles. He tilts her chin up, one hand still resting on her hip. “You are one of the most important people in my life. This year has put you through hell, and you’ve come out of the other side with this unbelievable capacity to love and care about people. And I know you and I have had our rough patches but—”

She can’t stop herself from interrupting him this time, because he has to know. “You’re one of the most important people in my life, too.”

His eyes are one of the best things Betty has ever seen. She doesn’t understand how people can call him hard to read, because his eyes are so open and honest and vulnerable and she can hardly stand how full her heart feels when she looks into them. “Yeah?” He says, and she looks into his eyes and sees something fragile. He has to know.

“You have been nothing but kind since everything happened,” she starts, watching his eyes change from fragile to _warm_ , so warm. “You have cared about me and our friends, even when I was less than kind to you. And Jug, you stayed. Through everything, even when I pushed you away, even when I was less that perfect—”

It’s his turn to stop her, and in some ways, she’s grateful, because she could feel herself staring to get choked up. “You deserve it, Betty. You deserve someone who stays. You deserve everything.”

Not, “You’re perfect, Betty, so perfect.” Not, “You never did anything wrong.” Just, “You deserve it.” Through everything, through all her faults, after all that’s happened between them, with her and the triangle, with her friends and her family. “You deserve it.”

_What do you feel, Betty?_

She can’t say how she feels. Not yet. So she says, in the softest voice, barely a whisper, “I think you’re my best friend.”

He smiles at her, like he knows. Maybe he does. “I know you’re mine.”

The song ends. They don’t move. If they never moved again, Betty would die happy.

 

 

Betty is eleven when Archie and Veronica corner her about why she lets Jughead push her around. Because she’s Betty, the strongest and the toughest of them. Betty, who’s gotten them out of trouble every time, Betty, who stood up for Kevin before she even knew who he was, Betty, who’d protected Archie when all she knew about him was the fact that they were neighbors, Betty, who’d befriended Veronica when no one wanted to even speak to her, Betty, who keeps them together.

Betty is kind, but Betty is a _badass_. So the fact that she lets Jughead get away with so much confuses the hell out of them.

She shrugs when they finally ask her. “He’s not a bad person,” she tells them. “I can tell.”

And they pester her and needle her and ask her _how_ she can tell, and Betty thinks back to her first memory, of a boy in a tux that didn’t quite fit him right and a quiet kindness she’s sure still remains a part of him. She doesn’t tell them that, though. That memory exists for just her and Jughead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello, guess who's back! So this chapter was... a lot, and it's going to be A LOT next chapter too. Sorry about that. It's a little rough. I've portrayed Betty and Dr. Patel the same way I portrayed my relationship with my therapist, which is very much casual and laidback. She's been so helpful for getting me back on track, and it's really nice to show that for Betty!
> 
> Thank you for the love and support! Y'all keep me writing and help me stay motivated, 'cause goodness knows my lil anxious heart needs every ounce of reassurance it can get. I love you guys <3

**Author's Note:**

> So... I'm not really sure how to describe this story. It's a culmination of things, I guess. I relate heavily to season one Betty, and I could easily imagine her in my situation. This story is based on personal experience with a toxic triangle that ended very, very badly. But good news is, things got better for me, and things will get better for Betty! It's just going to take a little time. The focus of this chapter was really just to let you know the background for why this story is happening. I know Jug was only briefly mentioned this chapter, but don't worry, he's coming. Hope you liked this, and I'll see you next time!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Podfic: would i have to pass you by?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963836) by [HufflepuffBetty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HufflepuffBetty/pseuds/HufflepuffBetty)




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